Unlike Any Other
by prince.of.fifty.stars
Summary: Matthew is Alfred's twin brother who cares for him. Who always wanted to be him. After the accident, Alfred tries to cope with the fact everyone, even Arthur, thinks that "Alfred Jones" is dead. Human AU. Main pairing: USUK
1. Chapter 1: A Favor

Chapter One: A Favor  


Running away wasn't a good idea. It never is and never will be.

Matthew and Alfred found themselves thinking the exact opposite. Matthew tried talking Alfred out of the psychotic idea ever since they had graduated senior high. He was always the quiet, kind, sane brother and Alfred was nearly the exact opposite; loud, a bit obnoxious and insane. Still, Alfred would be the one that was on stage covered in an endless crowd of people and Matthew would just be there, unnoticed in his brother's overpowering shadow. He hated the thought of being weak. He hated the idea of being small for the rest of his life. But he could never bring himself to blame, or hate, his brother. Sure, Alfred had it all; athletics, friends, intellect and looks that can win world-wide competitions but Matthew never really, truly cares about those characteristics.

All it took for Matthew to fall into his brother's spell is to simply look. They weren't just brothers, they were identical. Besides Matthew's wavy locks and Alfred's banged golden threads, they were the exact same. Nearly every single feature.

He found hope in the face of his blood-relative.

Since they were so alike, he had faith that he could, one day, be like his brother, noticed. Even a little. Matthew was determined to make it happen. Perhaps he was the insane one.

* * *

"You want to what?" Alfred exclaimed, eyes wide and finally turning from his game of Borderlands on his Xbox to look at his twin kneeling by his side, hands clasped together, nearly praying. "Please? I just want to try it for once," Matthew pleaded.

It had been four months since they ran away from home in New York City. Alfred had always had the dream of wanting to go see The Golden Gate Bridge, even if it was on the other side of the United States.

Matthew was a teacher at a small private school teaching literature to his grade six's, he liked the rare relaxation that the classroom brought.

Alfred became the obvious chef, for his love of greasy food, at a restaurant a couple of blocks from their large apartment.

On his first day as cook, he was being shown the ropes when he fell in love with his coworker, Arthur, who was (thankfully) a waiter, not a chef because his culinary skills were hopeless and deadly. They were the such great allies that everyone in the diner, even some of the darn customers, teased them for being the cutest couple.

Alfred couldn't take the criticizing pressure anymore and asked Arthur to finally go on date with ketchup and mustard decorated on one of the serving plates. They have been an official couple for about six days now and Matthew was more than happy for Alfred. Arthur was also surprisingly into literature so, him and Matthew got along perfectly and that fact made Alfred relieved.

Alfred finally gave in, seeing his brother's adorable begging. "Okay, Okay. Just be sure to save some of the flour. I still want to make some fried wings tomorrow," Matthew squealed with excitement, "Yay! Thanks, Alfie! You won't regret it! Promise!"

Alfred rolled his eyes, "Pancakes? I think I already have." Alfred turned back to exterminating every single thing on the flat screen, unending gunshots and screams boomed through the living room once more as Matthew cursed at himself while whisking some Canadian dough in the kitchen.

Every single time, Matthew would hate himself and cry for not accomplishing to request his wish, his insane wish. Of course he'd only have the guts to bawl when Alfred wasn't around. Matthew would end up stuttering some random crap that wasn't at all related to what he truly wanted to say. He was sobbing into one of the bathroom sinks when he suddenly heard the front door slam open followed by an ear-breaking, "I'M HOME MATTIE!"

Matthew quickly stood up, wiping his pained face and observed himself in the large mirror, he looked exactly how he felt; simply horrid. Without a single knock, like with everything Alfred does, his brother practically breaks down the poor, bathroom door. As Alfred stared at Matthew's complexion, his face of complete excitement turned into a pained concern.

"Mattie. What's wrong?" Alfred asked worriedly.

"Um," Matthew started. _I'd__ would surely say it now, _Matthew told himself. "I…" _Say it Matthew, _He chanted.

"I was worried if you liked the pancakes I made the other day," he blurted out, cursing at himself in his mind once again.

"Oh, is that it?" Alfred chuckled a little, "Yeah, they were actually really good! You cook real nice, Mat!" Alfred's bright smile filled Matthew with relief and he scraped up his rotting courage to make a double-take.

"That and something else, too" Matthew stopped for a second before continuing as Alfred came down onto his knees so they were eye-to-eye. "I actually wanted to ask you… if you would go to the barber with me"

* * *

They arrived in front of double-glass doors of a chic barber shop, in the lower parts of San Francisco.

"Alright, your destination, boys! $12.70 before you hop out!" The driver smiled and held out a hand, obvious to what he's asking for. Alfred clapped the man's hands with a 10 dollar bill, a silver coin worth $2 and a gold coin worth $1 in between his dry fingers. "Thank you! Keep the change, sir!" Matthew followed Alfred's broad back out of the yellow taxi. The taxi man, gave another small smile and rushed out into an opening in the loud, honking, gold river.

They entered the fancy building and the heated, polluted air from the city was instantly pushed out and a surge of fresh, cool oxygen hit them. Matthew and Alfred couldn't help but stand on the dark, polished floors and just inhale. The barber shop was much larger than it looked on the outside, complete with a second floor. It was a dark, modern atmosphere that a had a single chandelier dangling as a center masterpiece. There were at least 12 stations packed and organized with every tool a stylist could ever dream of, each seat illuminated by a gold spotlight. The second floor was filled with posh clothing sections, a private floor for employees only.

They spotted a man with silver hair matched with ruby eyes, attending a middle-aged guest. The peculiar man looked back at them, grinning. Alfred waved his arms at the guy, highly excited, and yells, "Gilbert! Long-time no see, bro!" Matthew rolls his violet eyes knowingly as Alfred and Gilbert's chests collide and scream at the top of their lungs "Fordham Rams!" annoying every customer in the echoing shop.

After a few minutes of sharing news, they finally calm down and Matthew came to Gilbert with his ideas, perfectly planned and after another group of boring minutes, Alfred sees Gilbert nod. "Okay, my Mattie. Shall we continue with your insanity?" Alfred suggested and Mattie gave him a forced but grateful smile.

Gilbert leads Alfred into a leather seat facing a clean, granite counter top and a circular mirror that reflected his every spectrum. Alfred was blinded as Gilbert wrapped his ocean-blue eyes with a thick, dark, strip of cloth. He could feel his brother's nervousness radiating off of his pale body and he could hear Gilbert speak calming words too him before his hearing shut out and was replaced by the sound of metal and spray mixed with snips of his long gone hair.

* * *

The blindfold left his eyes finally for what seemed like ages, but he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes, like it was a life or death decision. He felt Matthew come close behind his brown seat, now heated with Alfred's body temperature. His brother came to his ear, slightly trembling and murmured, "You look beautiful." The way Matthew's voice echoed in his brain was painful but, no doubt, filled with awe and gratefulness and he couldn't help but open his vision at the sound. The sudden light change hurt his retina but, quickly, he adjusted to his surroundings.

Beside him, Matthew was filled with the most joyful tears running down his wide smile and Gilbert was grinning ear to ear on his other side. He looked into his own reflection and yes, his reflection was beautiful. He looked younger, kinder, braver and it was painful but so beautiful.

Because in his reflection he saw his brother looking back at him.


	2. Chapter 2: Everything's Perfect

Chapter Two: Everything's Perfect

Alfred's shock leaves his mouth opened and he pokes at his face making sure it surely is himself.

"Holy Crap! Gilbert, you are an absolute genius!" Alfred beamed as he smothers his face with his strong hands once again. The foundation, lash length, and violet contacts made him an exact replica of Matthew, perfect, with the wavy locks. "I know I'm awesome!" Gilbert laughs and causes some customers to once again shush him as others just plainly ignore the boy's loud voice. "Gil, if you keep screaming, dude, you're going to get fired," Alfred pointed out, his eyes still glued to his reflection as he hears Gilbert let out a small 'whoops' followed by a shrug. "You even got out my stupid cowlick! And this curly thing here has got to be fake!" Gilbert shook his head "Nope I made sure you got the best, ja!" and Alfred widened his new eyes for a third time.

Alfred glanced to his right to where the mastermind of this whole astonishing make-over, was sobbing joyfully, his pale hands covered his watery face. "Aw, Mattie! Come on, look at me, little brother," Alfred soothingly said as he placed his warm hands on his brother's trembling , shoulders. At first contact, Matthew threw himself at his brother, arms wide grinning and sniffing. "Thank you so much, Al! This means so much! Thank you!" Matthew cried and Alfred squeezes his frail body while giving Gilbert one last thumbs up before letting Matthew out of his grip.

Matthew peeked up at Gilbert. "There has to be a way to pay you back for this," Matthew looked hopeful at the professional barber with the cutest, cheeky smile. "Well… I've always wanted to try Alfred's cooking but, the damn prices in your restaurant are so high, ja!" They laugh together, heartily, like old times, before leaving the memorable building and heading to Forbes Island, Alfred's everyday work.

* * *

The trio arrive at the fancy restaurant with excitement like cute, little children going to an amusement park and grumbling stomachs like hibernated bears in spring. "Okay, so the restaurant doesn't open till about two hours later so, just, don't be too loud, else I'm going to get fired, yeah," Alfred warns but the goofy smile on his face just couldn't be taken seriously, no matter how appealing those beautiful eyes look. They walk inside and instantly, the sensor lights flicker open one by one, illuminating every sea-themed table. A mysterious, bar in the back looked dusty but treasured and on one side of the building was a gigantic window that had a beautiful view of Ocean Beach.

Alfred, as if habit, dings a small bell and hastily ties a beige apron and leads them to a four seated wooden table before disappearing into the kitchen with that mischievous grin of his. Matthew and Gilbert small talk about life and work for a while, to pass time and ignore the whining their bellies made.

"So, um, Alfred! He came out so well, thank you! I mean, I can't believe how much he looks like…" Matthew pauses and looks at the water that Chef Alfred, gave both of them before helping himself to ingredients in the kitchen pantry, with an 'employees only' sign but Gilbert insisted on having some alcoholic drink or else he won't enjoy anything. "You?" Gilbert finished and Matthew nodded slowly. The awkward silence was broken by Alfred stomping back into the dining area with two dishes held in his muscular hands.

"When are you going to show Arthur, Al?" Matthew wondered, glancing at his dirty apron then back to his face.

"Tonight. I wanna surprise him and pretend that I'm you" he giggled a bit, looking at nothing "if you don't mind, that is."

Matthew sighed, "Yeah, sure. Just be sure to tell him that its actually you, got it?" Alfred nodded, obediently. "Anyway, I am starving! Let's eat, ja?" Gilbert suggested, apmost drooling, reaching for his plate eagerly.

The dishes were called Shaken Beef for Matthew and Drunken Crab for Gilbert (they laughed as they heard the names) and both were decorated beautifully from professional hands with delicious sauce on the side of each platter and on.

They ate with leisure and Gilbert would once in a while moan how the food tasted great and Matthew would agree as Alfred entertained them behind the bar, showing off his bartender skills (which were hilariously awful). After they were more than satisfied, it was definitely time to leave wonderland, before the restaurant opened. Gilbert parted them with a thank you and waved in his amber truck. Alfred decided to head home and freshen up before going back for his night shift at Forbes Island. He tucked away his apron before heading out into the parking lot where Matthew was waiting patiently in the front passenger seat of his Chevy Camaro, smiling.

"Why the smile?" Alfred wondered as he started his navy blue car.

"Well, everything feels so perfect now. Thanks." Matthew hummed and closed his eyes and folded his arms and just relished the moment.

Alfred glanced at his brother before driving out of the silent parking lot. The face on his brother made him smile with relief and joy. "Anything for you, Mat" He mumbled, beaming to himself. He turned the music on and switched to Matthew's favorite station. He tapped his finger on the steering wheel as he mumbled some of the lyrics. Another song came on and Matthew's slightly sleepy eyes opened wide, suddenly.

"Favorite Song?" Alfred asked, knowingly.

"Yeah!" Matthew said almost sarcastically as he swayed back and forth and Alfred chuckled. The song's chorus came quickly and Matthew turned into a full on dance party. "Come on, Al! I know you know you want to sing too," Matthew nudged Alfred and he tried to hold back his intentions to just scream the beloved song.

"I don't want to!" Alfred argued.

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too, Mr. Boring!"

"I'm not boring!"

"Then, sing, Captain!"

Alfred gave up once again for his brother, sighed and mumbled a few lines. "Aw, that sucks!" Matthew stuck his tongue out annoying Alfred, playfully and before they knew it they were having a dance party together and yelling their hearts out to LA LOVE.

After a few songs and playful headbanging, they finally calm down from the pain of their sore throats. Matthew snores quietly as he leans into the arm rest between the two seats and Alfred silently struggles, rubbing his temples. He drives speedily onto Golden Gate Bridge and he could feel his mind sway. He shook his head and blinks for the millionth time from a darn headache of a few cups of colorful cocktails.

* * *

.

.

.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…" Alfred cries as looks into Matthew's soft eyes and carefully touches his brother's scraped and bloodied face.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

_Terms:_

_Forbes Island is an actual five-star restaurant on a miniature island in San Francisco._

_Ocean Beach is a body of water where Forbes Island is on._

_Shaken Beef and Drunken Crab are real entrees on the Forbes Island Menu._

_LA LOVE is popular song sung by: Fergie -not a big fan of it but its catchy and talks about countries so, why not?_

I truly hope you are enjoying my first fan-fiction so far. I humbly apologise for my short chapters but my small assistant urged me to not dare make any chapter long. The idea of the story was originally from a movie I hadn't finished... unfortunately I have forgotten the title. Anyway, I bid you good day and happy reading!


	3. Chapter 3: Painful World

WARNING:This passage has cursing and language that is not recommended for children (reader discretion is advised)

* * *

Chapter Three: Painful World

"What's wrong, Alfred?" Matthew said, voice, raspy and dry as he looked up at his brother with a sleepy eye. Alfred takes a quick glance at Matthew then turns his attention back to the bridge's path. "Nah, I just have this damn headache. It's killing me" Alfred grunted and rubbed a palm against his temple. Matthew lazily stood up, yawned and wiped at his lavender eyes trying to look up to his brother. Alfred looks back, briskly and in his brother's sight he could see nothing but concern and fear.

"W-What's up? What's with the face?" Alfred asked as he glanced continuously to the road and back to Matthew's painful gaze. Matthew bent his head downward and slowly inched his shaky hand onto his brother's, which was mercilessly gripping the steering wheel. Alfred flinched at the sudden contact and followed his brother's arm up to his face.

Again; absolute fear.

Alfred grew annoyed and turned to a side road and fully turned his body to put his full attention to Matthew. "What is it?" He finally yelled, patience running low though not daring to let go of his brother's trembling palm.

"Alfred, listen to me." Matthew took both his hands to hold Alfred's and slowly crept around his shoulders and held him close. Now Alfred was completely confused but he nodded, unsure. Matthew continued plainly,

"You are the stupidest, short-tempered-"

"Wait, what? Seriously?"

"Smart ass, pain-in-the-butt-"

"Whoa! Hold on!"

"Funniest, bravest, kindest-"

"Wait a sec- oh."

"Most handsome person I have ever laid my eyes on."

Alfred knew it wasn't the time or place but he couldn't help turn into a human rose from neck to ear, despite his ultimate confusion. He hugged his brother tightly, perhaps slightly tearing up (but he'd never admit that), and came close to his ear, mumbling,

"Y-You look beautiful" Matthew froze at his brother's words, emotions clouted his mind. Alfred misunderstood his brother's shocked response and repeated himself, a modest bit louder,

"You look beautiful," Matthew could now feel water at the edges of his eyes. He shook his head unbelievably and without warning like with everything Alfred did, he repeated himself one last time, with a confident, clear voice,

"_You_ look beautiful, Matthew and I am so fucking happy that you are my brother."

At that moment, Matthew had never been happier in all his life. Tears uncontrollably started rolling down his flushed cheeks and he wailed his heart out into his brother's bomber jacket for the first time.

Alfred didn't laugh, he didn't tease, and instead he just… accepted him, the way he had always dreamed of…

But, eventually… one has to wake up.

* * *

"Matthew!" Alfred screamed and abruptly stood up after that horrible nightmare of the incident that excruciatingly left him with sweat and tears. "Shit," he mumbled caressing his head forcefully. His head still clung to the stabbing pain from that one night but a great amount worse, compared. A rhythmic beeping sound came from a large machine by his bedside, didn't help whatsoever. He slowly placed his upper body back onto the soft cloud of a pillow. Despite the worsening ache, he felt a wave of relief, ease his mind.

"_A dream. Just a dream!" _Alfred told himself, "_Thank god!"_

He rubbed his temples to try to soothe the headache as he suddenly felt something painful and alarming. Alfred ran his forefinger across the side of his head and felt a large, long bump. He gasped and ran through it again with disbelief.

It was a scar. It was real.

Alfred couldn't believe it. He swiftly sat up from what seemed like a hospital bed and tried to break free of the large comforters and avoiding his pain. He was successful and he pulled away but felt a small tug coming from his arm; thin, clear wires. The wires were attached to the machine. He ripped away from it quickly and easily and had no second thoughts on slamming his large room door open as he ran down the dark, silent halls. He was in the middle of stomping down a flight stairs when the small lights around him flashed red followed by a loud speaker,

"Patient Alert. Patient Alert. Williams Matthew, please return to your designated area."

At the sound of his brother's name overwhelmed him with happiness. His brother was here too! Alfred ignored the hypnotizing lights to the best of his abilities and was about to turn to a full out sprint when something, or someone, stopped his tracks.

A man was sitting on a hospital bench, his back bent and pale, boney fingers covered his ears. The man's arms covered his low face but the shimmer of his long eyelashes showed that the man had just been crying. Alfred clenched his hands, trying to determine whether he should comfort the man or turn the other direction where, with luck, a wide window was opened. "_Do a good deed each day"_ Matthew had always said. He was about to reach his hand out to the man when a large noise of clambering feet were headed in his direction. He turned on his heel and in a blink of an eye he was stopped again. The man called to him with a distinct, English accent and he awkwardly turned around his eyes in a hurry. Then they widened instantly.

"Arthur?" Alfred asked as he made sure his eyes weren't fooling him. In truth, he was glad that his his beloved suitor was there in that dull hell with him.

The man turned to glance back at him and surely enough his eyes were red and stained with water.

"W-What the bloody hell are you doing out here?" He said coldly and Alfred was taken aback by the unsweetened treatment he wouldn't usually have gotten. Actually, now that he had been in an accident, he was hoping a treatment like a king. The bewildered state on his lover's face said otherwise.

He just stared at Arthur as a swarm of nurses and doctors brought him back to his hated room and Arthur out of sight. For a while he just laid there, thinking, crying and most of all, hoping as his brother, Matthew, rolled in his mind like a beautiful dream, out of reach. He sobbed that night, the way his brother had.

* * *

Alfred awoke the next morning, sleepless and eyes of crimson. A kind nurse came into the room with a tray of warm breakfast. Even if the tray smelled like heaven and contained the most appetizing food; mashed potatoes, Caesar salad and barbecue flavored beef, he didn't eat a crumb. Even if his stomach wanted it so badly, grumbling and whining, he forced himself to refuse, to the nurse's great annoyance.

The food was nearly cold when a guest walked in and forced him to eat or else Alfred will have to eat what he had brought him. And nobody, I repeat, nobody wants to eat Arthur Kirkland's homemade scones.

After stuffing his face with the last bite of scrumptious beef, he couldn't take the saddening silence anymore and he had to ask. "Art, do you..." Alfred paused, "do you know where my brother is?" Arthur just gave him an emotionally painful smile. "Well, he's… your brother is in the San Francisco Columbarium." Arthur sympathetically breathed and tears started trickling down his face as he turned away, embarrassed.

Alfred raised a scratched brow to register the unexpected information. He went through all the buildings of San Francisco in his head, looking down at the empty tray. When he figured it, it hit him like a bullet, so painful, the tears rolled down like an uncontrolled faucet.

It was true… Matthew was… he was… no, god, please no.

Alfred threw the tray off his bed and cried angrily, "No! He isn't dead! My, my brother! How could you? How dare you say he's gone? He's, he's not…" he muffled his wet face into the warm, white blankets and he wept, and the tears hurt his face from the dryness of last night but he couldn't take it.

It was painful. It was heartbreaking. It was his brother. It was Matthew!

Alfred helplessly cuddled up in a trembling ball and tucked his face in between his legs, hiding and ignoring the painful world.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

The start of this chapter shows what happened before the tragedy. It only connects with the ending sentence of the chapter before. Kind of. If the first part of the chapter confuses, I assure you that it will come clear in the following chapters.

_Terms:_

_San Francisco Columbarium: Basically a cemetery within an ancient building that contains remains (usually ashes) from dead subjects. Modern language: A building that has sections for the ashes of dead people._

I hope that didn't seem too depressing.

This may be my last chapter before I head into the days of work once again. But I will try my darn best to work on the next chapter and publish it immediately. Although, no promises. I shall be sure to keep the next chapter's deadline before the week ends.

I bid you happy reading.


	4. Chapter 4: To Misunderstand

Chapter Four: To Misunderstand

Alfred laid on the bed and groaned.

A sound at the end of the room echoed as the wooden door opened to let a woman with a white coat, in. She was tall and slender, a beautiful face of a model but the lengthy jacket made her look like a dull ghost. "Hey! How are you feeling today?" she exclaimed through her plump, red lips. "Dead" Alfred bluntly said with a hint of irritation. He covered his eyes with his forearm from the bright lights the doctor had opened when she interrupted them and walked in. She noticed and stretched her mouth to an exaggerated frown. "Oops! Sorry!" She awkwardly apologized and Alfred nearly laughed as she walked closer to his bed but slipped, failing miserably.

He was slightly lightened up when he heard the news that he was finally leaving this purgatory disguised as a friendly home.

He looked to his right where a certain Brit was sitting, legs crossed and drowsily reading a novel, not paying a drop of attention to him.

Alfred had been in the hospital for two days now, his deathly headache gratefully nowhere to be felt but and he guessed Arthur had used up all his energy on comforting him in that short period of time. Since that meeting in the hallway, Arthur hadn't been 'kind' to him at all. It made him yearn for his attention so much more.

"So, Natalia, you look real nice today," Alfred slurred his word sexily, tracing the sleeve of her snow white coat and tried to avoid the urge for his (fake) violet eyes to fall to Arthur.

To Alfred's delight, Arthur, even Doctor Braginski, flinched at the sudden use of her first name. The awkwardness and her rosy cheeks were too much to handle and she hurriedly smiled at Alfred and left the room, almost tripping for the millionth time. Alfred let out a chuckle and faced his head to look at his friend. "You should have seen your face!" Alfred laughed and Arthur rolled his eyes, annoyed.

"There is no point! The use of a professional's first name is highly known to be rude!" Arthur pointed the top of the book at Alfred as he scolded him. "And I honestly thought you were the mature one…"

Alfred raised a brow, "mature one?" Arthur shook his head, sarcastically rolling his eyes once more and returned back to is hardcover of Harry Potter, to Alfred's disappointment. He sighed and decided to finally ask.

"Arthur, what's wrong?" The question stunned Arthur and he couldn't hold his composed self anymore. First, small tears trickled down his cheek one by one then he began to weep loudly and coming by Alfred's side muffling his screams in the soft, now wet blanket. Alfred pat his head comforting and slowly crying himself. He never found this side of Arthur before. He was glad that Arthur cared so much for his brother too, so that they can mourn together.

"Why? Why did he have to die? Why? This is so terrible!" Arthur bawled out, cursing whoever had caused the damned accident as Alfred continued to comb his hair with his pale, muscular fingers and slowly sobbed as well, not nearly listening to every word that his beloved co-worker was yelling.

Then his comforting hand instantly yielded as he heard an unusual sentence that somehow stuck out, come out of Arthur's chapped lips.

"I miss you! I always will! I hope you are in a better place, love! My dear, beloved Alfred!"

"What?" Alfred originally mumbled to himself but Arthur seemed to stop, probably somewhat annoyed by the unsympathetic response to his emotion-filled speech. "What do you mean 'what'? I just gave you the most heart felt-"

"No, no! that's not what I meant. I didn't mean to make your said speech to my brother look stupid. I was just confused when you said my name. So..." Now Alfred was altogether baffled on what exactly Arthur meant. I he didn't like the idea of asking others what something was supposed to mean. He liked figuring it out himself. Which usually never really helped in any way at all because he would somehow get the wrong idea, creative mind of a hero and all. These were one of those times as he gasped.

"You... y-you love my brother?" he shouted, rage seen through his knitted eyebrows and his fists as he thought of all the happy, memories they had made together being crumpled up and burned. Arthur unnoticed, looked closer and practically saw veins growing out of them and his forehead, making him surprised. Though not as much, confused.

"Y-yes, of coarse I do! Did you not already know that? For crying out loud, we told you ourselves that we have recently been dating!" He exclaimed back.

"What the hell? How long have you been with him? That bastard of a brother! And you son a of a bitchy two-timer!" Alfred screamed, voice growing louder with every word and ready to punch his lover, um, ex. For the first time in his life he wanted to die. More so that he can beat up his brother in heaven for taking his one and only.

Arthur widened his forest green eyes, more puzzled than he ever will be. "What the bloody fuck is wrong with you? How dare you call my beloved a bastard? Your acting pretty 'bitchy' yourself! And what is with this two-timer nonsense? I've never had a relationship with anyone but him!" Arthur now as loud as him and getting closer to stare at him, intensely outraged.

"Oh my god, Arthur! You are being fucking crazy!" Alfred was at the edge of his bed and pulling Arthur up from his navy collar with his powerful strength. Inside the fabric he could feel Arthur's Adam's Apple bob up and down, indicating a gulp. Arthur was terrified and puzzled with the way his good friend was acting. He had always thought him to be the quiet, collected, and kind type. He guessed he was wrong. Although, this didn't stop him from coming back.

"You are the insane one!" He returned the insult with a calm voice, making sure to slur the 'you' of the statement. "now put me down."

Alfred unfortunately didn't and he just hung in the air, just about two inches off the ground. But that didn't matter, just the fact that he was off of the ground made him uncomfortable.

Thankfully, the door opened and the doctor came back in, her face less crimson and a bit more surprised. Seemingly from the immature, as Arthur would have thought, sight that greeted her. "Uh..." she stopped to put her mad face on, in a rather motherly way, "Please, put Mr. Kirkland down. That is so unnecessary for you to do so!"

Alfred pouted, small and plopped the Brit back to Earth. He stuck his tongue out childishly and crossed his robust arms, glancing back to his mother, uh, doctor.

Arthur on the other hand blew out the breath he was holding and nodded to her, thankful that his life didn't end then and there. He wiped his forehead from the sweat that was formed and loosened his collar a bit as he thought of what may have happened if she hadn't come back.

Doctor Braginski was glancing back and forth to both of them and when she was satisfied she looked down to a folder she hadn't had before and took a small look and raised her head to speak again. "Alright, then. Well, I was here to check on you before you left. Um, to see how you were feeling in certain places and make sure you can walk normally and stable."

She gestured for Alfred to stand and he immediately obeyed. Next, after a small nod and writing on her papers, she gestured for him to walk to her, who was a good three meters from him. He started to walk, wobbling and falling at just past the first meter. It's been quite a while since he walked and it made sense his legs gave up in that time. Thin slender arms grabbed under his arms before his bottom hit the dirty floor.

He peeked up behind him and saw evergreen eyes struggling from the weight his body was carrying. He smiled a bit and cursed himself for falling for Arthur all over again. That damn cheater. He looked straight ahead and slowly moved himself away from Arthur and reached his doctor. She grinned brightly as he touched the wall, leaning his right shoulder, for his left was injured, specifically, bruised.

"Alright, your ready to go! Have fun on your first day back!" She cheered and instantly shut herself up as the two melancholic faces responded her. "A-And I am so sorry for your loss..." Then she left.

Arthur packed his books and papers into his leather briefcase quietly and Alfred changed into a red button up and dark blue jeans that Arthur brought him, managing without saying a single word. Though, mentally, he had to admit that the tension was annoying him very much.

He had his mouth opened, ready to speak when the door opened for the third time, a small blonde head peered in with a modest smile, "So, I hope both of you make up! Have a good day, Mr. Kirkland!" Arthur nodded politely in her direction. "And you too, Mr. Williams!"

.

.

.

"What?" Alfred repeated, with a sense of dèja vu.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**PLEASE REVIEW (its definitely alright if you don't though)**

_Terms:_

_Harry Potter- a book about a boy (named Harry Potter) and his adventures in wizard school. Also was made into movies._

_"dèja vu"- a phrase in French that means: already seen. It basically is used when someone has an odd feeling of familiarity._

Yes, I promised that I'd have it published before the week ends so, there you go! I hope you are enjoying it so far (being my first fan-fiction and all) and I am so happy to think this is actually my longest chapter so far!

Anyway, I bid you happy reading.


	5. Chapter 5: The English Dancing Master

Chapter Five: The English Dancing Master

"What?" Alfred exclaimed once again, trying to spell out what his doctor just called him.

"Matthew! You're being rude!" Arthur whispered loudly through his bridgework glaring at the confused boy. Alfred tilted his head, almost sarcastically and repeated himself, still in delusion.

"What?"

"Dear goodness, Matthew! I thought you had more manners than your brother!" Arthur folded his arms, shaking his head in disappointment.

"What?" Alfred's voice was beginning to pitch a bit.

"Matthew Williams! For Christ's sake, why on the bloody earth are you so confused about?"

Alfred felt like he was drowning in a sea of questions, choking and drowning him. By now, he had turned his head back to his doctor for more clarification on the confounding situation. He soon found it was of no use because Dr. Braginski herself has already left, due to the guilt that she started yet another fight rather than fixing anything.

He turned back to see Arthur staring at him like some unending puzzle or a book that was written in a language that did not exist. He stared back with equal confusion.

"What?" Alfred barely breathed the words as Arthur sighed. "Tell me, Matthew. Why are you confused?"

Alfred plopped himself onto the cushions of the comfy bed and intertwined his fingers together. "Well, first of all, why the heck did you call me Matthew?" Arthur raised his impressive eyebrows at this, amused and somewhat pitifully.

"Oh, for the Queen's sake! Matthew," Arthur looked away as he glanced to the wall, softly and crossed his slender arms. "It is your name, of course"

Alfred knitted his brows together and tried to interpret what his lover had plainly stated to him. He rubbed his temples, feeling the long bump and he moved to brush his chin. He looked into Arthur's emerald gaze but didn't give a single clue to what exactly was going on. He moved his calloused hands to weave through his bangs.

Then his eyes widened. No bangs. For once he was worried of what had happened to his naturally beautiful locks. He looked up, almost cross-eyed to an unusual piece of hair that looked nothing like his stubborn cowlick but rather a long piece, hung like a spring. He caressed the hair by his cheeks and stiffened. Now he remembered. Oh, did he remember.

"I…" Alfred stumbled in his soft-spoken words, "I am… Matthew"

Arthur almost laughed at the somewhat surprising remark. "Yes, yes you are, Matthew Williams," He said nearly disparagingly.

Alfred reflected it over in his mind. How could he be so oblivious? Of course they'd confuse me for my brother. But, how dare Arthur mistaken me, his one true lover, to my totally opposite brother… He thought about it again and he looked into his bandaged hands. "The exact same, huh," Alfred thought.

Beside him Arthur had continued to pack, thinking that the problem was finally solved. He started whistling an old English folk song that sounded all too familiar to Alfred; The English Dancing Master.

* * *

"Well? How are you feeling?"

"I'm… alive" Alfred said emotionless, almost disgusted.

Arthur turned into the driveway of a beautifully outstanding house.

"Dear goodness gracious! Matthew! Could you stop acting like your brother and resume that once quiet, cheerful being of yours? I know it's hard to forget what happened but, why the bloody hell are you acting like him anyway?"

Alfred looked out his passenger's window, he was almost amazed and, in a way, disappointed at the fact, Arthur himself could stay this calm, thinking 'Alfred' is dead. Although he did sigh at what Arthur spatted. "Because I am him" He pondered to himself as he pushed the metallic amber door of the car and idly stepped out. Arthur followed.

They entered the house, or what seemed like a castle and Alfred, by habit because of the constant nagging from Arthur, slipped of his shoes and properly placed them beside a beige wall. He looked around as comforting memories flooded his mind of times he and Arthur came into this house...

* * *

**_One Week Ago_**

"Holy cheeseburger crapnesses!"

"Alfred, words!"

"Yeah, but, this house is hubungous!"

"That is definitely not a word!"

"Ah! Cut the literature cheese! Like, anyone would make up words after seeing this huge mansion! Besides, that is totally a word!"

"Is not! The fact that it came from your mouth, makes it more so, fake"

Alfred laughed loudly as Arthur entered the house with him. Music kissed their ears when they entered the spacious living room. The room was naturally lit by the fading sunset in the horizon, shown by the open windows. Birds were singing goodnight to each other as the thin curtains were rising slowly and falling softly. Arthur was looking out at the distance and Alfred was staring and admiring him. Arthur peeked his evergreen pupils through his long eyelashes.

"W-What is it?"

"Nothing. The sun just compliments how beautiful you are" Alfred answered in a smiling whisper.

Arthur blushed and turned away from Alfred's handsome gaze. Arthur reached out his hand to turn off the playing disk when Alfred reached his own hand to stop it. Alfred smiled as Arthur looked up at him. He cupped his soft cheeks.

"You can't stop the music when we haven't danced yet," Alfred said, matter-of-factually.

"And when have you ever danced properly, Alfred?" Arthur was amused, in a way.

"Well, I didn't take secret dancing lessons for no reason, love" Alfred replied, in a playful Brit accent.

Arthur widened his eyes, entertained at the fact Alfred took his insults to heart and fixed it. He laughed and held his hand out and Alfred followed, kneeling on the polished, wooden floors.

"Mr. Kirkland?"

"Yes, Mr. Jones?"

"May I have the honor to dance with you in this awesome groove music?"

Arthur raised his brow. Alfred laughed awkwardly and took another route instead.

"I mean, may I have the pleasure of guiding you in this dance?"

"Alfred, It would my pleasure"

Alfred smiled brightly and kissed Arthur's held out hand as he took it and placed his other around Arthur's waist. They moved in unison to the soft music of 'The English Dancing Master'. "What a wonderful first date" Arthur and Alfred thought together as they tried to keep composed and not speak or laugh about Alfred messing up and reversing the steps. Although, to them, they were absolute professionals.

* * *

Alfred slung his luggage over his sore shoulder and flinched. He sighed as he took the bag to his other side and climbed up the creaky stairs to the third floor where the silent guest room was. Arthur had gone to the study to probably continue reading his novel.

Alfred slipped off his bag and his (or Matthew's) greyish blue sweater as he looked to a ticking clock on the wall; 6 o'clock. He glanced right to the double bed where an open window showed a beautiful orange, red sky and wispy clouds. He sat on the beige bedsheets and laid back, the brown covers making a small thump sound. He just lay there, staring up to the high ceiling.

Ultimately, he got bored and reluctantly detached himself from the comfortable bed and walked across the wool carpet to the white door to turn the brass knob. He poked his head out and eventually got his whole lazy body exposed to the wide hallway.

Alfred was nearly halfway down the stairs, leading to the first floor, when he heard something awful that made his body quickly head back to his room.

He closed the door and slid into the white pillows. One would think he'd be comforted and warmed by such a recognizably sound but he was everything but warm. He was absolutely bleak.

He dug his face deeper into the cotton trying to exclude all sound from the tune that made him dance on his and Arthur's first date. The tune that let him and Arthur truly fall in love.

The song that brought back thoughts of being disciplined to practice the steps to the waltz by Matthew.

The birds chirped goodnight to each other through the rising of the curtains and the sun set sleepily as the curtains fell back down.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

_Terms:_

_The English Dancing Master: An English folk song by John Playford. I do not think it has words, just music._

I apologise so much for not being able to publish this chapter earlier. I have been so busy with life, it nearly took me over. I will try my best to post the next chapter sooner than this. Well, I hope you enjoyed it.

I bid you happy reading.


	6. Chapter 6: Lack Of Personnel

Chapter 6: Lack of Personnel

"I'll cook then."

Alfred gasped and shook his head wildly, his eyes becoming desperate saucers as he looked down to the Brit at the bottom of the stairs. Arthur smirked and softly smiled at the steel fridge in the open concept kitchen. For a small while, Alfred stared at Arthur than to the cooler, wondering exactly what was so intriguing. Alfred found himself staring in no time.

It was pictures of him and Arthur on their first and only date. Alfred grinned and sighed.

"Okay, okay. I'll cook some… uh," Alfred looked up to a miniature chandelier thinking of the certain dish that his brother lived for.

"hotcakes"

"no…" Alfred mumbled still rubbing his chin, thoughtfully.

"uh, flapjacks?"

"nah, can't be that…"

Arthur sighed and thought for himself about the Canadian language.

"Well, pan-…cakes? Pancakes, yes?"

America snapped his fingers and pointed his forefinger to Arthur, his tongue still stuck out from thinking hard. Arthur responded with raised brows.

"Bingo!"

"What?"

"You know that thing that you say when you got something?"

"Uh…"

"You know, that dog that's called BINGO? Like that nursery rhyme thingies?"

"Um…"

America let out a breath and waved a hand at Arthur as he descended from the steps.

"Nah, it`s fine. `You got me. I`ll come down and cook some cakes"

Arthur smiled his slightly bucked teeth and pat Alfred's shoulder as the American reached the bottom and headed to the near kitchen.

"It's wonderful you're doing this! Making hotcakes always cheers you up, right Matthew?" Arthur called, voice headed to the ears owned to the being inside the fridge, searching for some butter. Alfred slightly laughed but was taken aback by the name that he didn't think he would ever get used to.

* * *

It had already been two weeks since Alfred left the hospital. Arthur had offered to let him live in his house after finding movers storing and eventually dumping his things away and left him with Matthew's things.

He couldn't bear the familiar smell of his brother without crying. He sent them back with his own storage.

But the whole time, Arthur had been trying his best to make him feel comfortable and it was very obvious how much he wanted to help out. Arthur bought a small Wii system, a music box with western music and got some mechanics to fix up an abandoned barbeque in his 4 acre backyard.

He even tried the best of his best to not cook the meals because he himself even knew how much Alfred and Matthew's compliments were only out of kindness.

Although Alfred was truly grateful for literally everything, he'd still feel a certain emptiness in the house.

He knew that he was hurting but he also knew he wasn't the only one. Alfred wasn't able to force back his tears, a few days ago but when he heard a soft wailing one night, his own tears just stopped. It was as if Arthur was crying for him. His barely soundless song was so oppressive as if all his happiness had been taken from him.

Every night, then on, he would hear a soft wailing and thumping of pillows on the echoing walls.

Then every morning he would see the source of the home's sadness, calmly sit in the dining room for breakfast and ask how Alfred was doing with a wide, happy smile.

Alfred tried harder than he ever had to hold back asking Arthur if he was alright or just hurling himself at him and squeezing him and kissing him to death.

The only thing that held him back, was the fact that Arthur still loved Alfred. And the last time he had checked, he was Matthew Williams. Although, once in a while, Alfred would ask himself, "Can I just take a break from being you, Mat?"

* * *

"Hey, Artie!"

"Yes, Matthew?" Arthur asked with half heartened attention. He was in the middle of reading 'Great Expectations' by one of many of his favorite authors. His legs were crossed and his back was straight, despite that the chair was not at all in straight degree. The fine designs of silk, surrounding the chair, made him look like royalty. Although he looked like a blue-blood and had mannerism like one, he was humble and didn't think highly of himself whatsoever. One of the many endless reasons why Alfred loved him so much.

He simply turned a thick page when he looked up at Alfred, expectantly.

"Um," Alfred paused, thinking that maybe, it was not the right timing. Arthur now had his full gaze to Alfred, his book laid on his lap and he seemed ready for anything. Alfred breathed in deeply.

"W-Would you like to go somewhere with me?" Alfred blurted out in a fast, barely understandable mumble. For Arthur, he somehow understood every word because he was already so used to the speed speeches of this boy's brother.

To Alfred's delight, Arthur nodded with a small, confused smile. Alfred grabbed Arthur's slender arms (oh, how good did it feel to finally have contact with Arthur) and lead him to his brother's truck, opening the passenger's seat for him.

"Why thank you, Mr. Williams," Arthur said politely and in a bit of a playful tone, bit confused because he had thought, 'perhaps he meant shopping for ingredients of some sort'. So, yes, Arthur was a bit confused.

"No prob, Artemis!" Alfred exclaimed so happily, he didn't put to mind what he had just said. Arthur's eyes stared widely at Alfred as the blonde rounded the car to seat himself behind the driver's wheel, for he had heard the name, loud and clear.

"Matthew..."

"Yeah, what's up?" he said excitedly as the gears boomed when he turned the key.

"Did you call me... no, never mind it." Arthur placed his elbow on the armrest, repositioned himself in the leather seat, and stared out his clear window as the tires started rolling.

The car stopped in front of an illuminated restaurant that made Arthur laugh.

"It's my day off, Al-" Arthur shut his mouth with his palm and corrected himself instantly, "M-Matthew."

For Alfred, he didn't hear the fortunate mistake and laughed himself.

"Yeah, I know." He said, matter-of-factually as he turned the brass key and stuffed it into the pocket of his blue sweater. He hopped out and in a blink, swung the passenger's door open, making Arthur jump.

"You're not here to serve anyone. You'll be served today," Alfred took Arthur's hand gently and pulled him out and hastily heading inside this familiar building.

The duo enter to a restaurant nearly too quiet that a crumb could be heard, drop. Alfred gulped and turned to Arthur with a questioning face. Arthur smiled and started to explain, "Well, you must be wondering why it is so uncommonly quiet today."

The American nodded in response and awaited something big like, there was some sort of apocalypse or disease that carried hallucinations that tell people to not eat there.

"Alright, so, first of all, it has not a thing to do with an apocalypse."

Alfred laughed, ending the spooky silence as his voice almost echoed.

"I see that you're mental powers are still working impressively, Sherlock." Alfred complimented, truly impressed, indeed.

"Why, thank you, Doctor Watson. Anyway, the reason of this non busy business is the fact that people simply don't enjoy as much as they did before."

"So, you guys are sucking at you're job or something? That's surprising. Like, seriously? You guys were asked to work here BECAUSE of the rapid serving you guys totes excel at, you know?"

"No, no, no, no. Our service is fine and not the problem."

Arthur paused, for he liked the anxiousness on Matthew's face and it was simply fun to keep things suspenseful, even though he knew it wasn't really that worth it on a newspaper. Also... Matthew did look... just a small bit... adorable. It reminded him of the way Alfred was.

"The problem is... the food."

"The food... WHAT? Have you actually tasted it? No, have you lost it? It's from heaven! Why the food, of all things?"

Arthur mixed a laugh and a sigh.

"No, no, no, no. It's not the food itself, it's the cook."

"WHAT? That's worse! My-uh-Alfred's food is the best! It can't be the cook! Are you crazy?"

Arthur gaped his mouth and stared at him like he dropped a baby or something.

"My god, Matthew! Do you not get it, of all people? The restaurant is empty because of the food. The cook that made those wondrous dishes is not here. That amazing cook is not here. The cook is not here!" Arthur paused and looked at Matthew(Alfred) to see if he was getting any of it. When he failed to show what he wanted to see, he puffed air through his mouth.

"Alfred is not here."

Alfred widened his eyes. Instead of a light bulb brightening his emotions, it hit his head and killed him. Yes, now he got it.


	7. Chapter 7: No Regrets

WARNING: this passage has cursing and an intense dose of BL/Yaoi. (reader's discretion is advised.)

* * *

Chapter 7: No Regrets

"Matthew! How on earth did I not know about this?"

"Not know what, Artie?" Alfred froze to the sound of Arthur screaming at him. He was scared to think that he lost his edge. Arthur still had his mouth wide opened, the spoon gripped between his fingers.

"How the bloody hell did I not know you cooked this well? It's like an exact replica of Alfred's!" Arthur repeated still shocked of the fact Matthew was a genius chef disguised as an elementary teacher. Although it wasn't all too surprising because the boy's brother is one of the top chefs of all time. Probably, genes would make fit the puzzle or a few lessons taught here and there.

"Uh…" Alfred stayed frozen but now scared of the fact he blew his cover of being a conserved boy who only loved cooking pancakes. "Well, I… um… got some lessons from big bro… yeah."

Arthur made an 'oh' face, nodded his head and took another lick of the sauce. "That's fantastic! I am so sorry I doubted you for the job! You are perfect! This will absolutely get us back on track!" Arthur paused and thought again. "What about your teaching career in St. James?"

"Oh, yeah. I found that I'm just losing my edge with the kids, so, it's fine if I come here instead." He lied. In truth, he was actually really good with kids and related to them very well. It was the teaching part that made it very unappealing. Arthur still was smiling as he left the kitchen, giving Alfred undying memories.

"Uh, Artie!" Alfred called out just as the door slowly shut. It opened again instantly with Arthur's body popping out. "Yes?"

"**I'll… cook the meal."**

Arthur widened his eyes and his smile faded. "Did… Alfred teach you that too?" Alfred shrugged with a small smile, awaiting for Arthur's answer. Arthur bit his lip and took a deep breath.

"**I'll serve it"**

"**Might eat you up instead?"**

Arthur blushed. **"You know it." **And he quickly left to serve the food.

"Artie!" Alfred called again. Arthur burst through the door, still rosy-cheeked. "W-What?"

"Well, can I have my spoon back?" And Arthur became redder then he ever did.

* * *

Alfred stretched his arms and let out a yawn that sounded like a crossover from a cow and sigh.

"How was your first day?" Arthur asked as he entered the large, silver RAM and reached his best to grab a hold of the handle to close the door. He turned to Alfred as the motor boomed as the vehicle started moving.

"First?" Alfred wondered and almost awaited for Arthur to correct himself when he looked over his situation again. "Oh, yeah. It was fine, I guess. I mean, work is work, right?" Arthur nodded and continued, "Well, I was quite impressed how you knew where everything was, just once being told." Alfred ran his fingers through his hair and pretended to look up to his rear view mirror.

"Oh, yeah, thanks. I have a pretty good memory, that's all." He recovered himself as he turned to the wide driveway of Arthur's home. Well, now his as well.

Alfred opened the door with his own key in hand and let Arthur's figure in first. He quickly climbed to his bedroom and slammed his fist to the pillow. "Shit!" He thought to himself, "I almost fucking blew my cover... first, the fucking small b-boy cooking uncovered..." He slammed his face into the covers. "Second, I almost blew my 'first' day by looking like superman, knowing every fucking thing..." He groaned like a dying cow. "Second, I cracked the code for telling Art that I wanted to kiss him to death... crap, I just hope he thought that 'Matthew' didn't actually mean that..."

He kept his face down in the pillow for a while, almost falling asleep. As his eyes nearly shut, a knocking resonated him awake. "Wha...?" Alfred answered tiredly. A soft accented voice came through a small opening crack, "A-Alfred?"

Alfred rapidly stood up, rubbed his eye with his palm and quickly let out a yawn. "Yeah? What is it?"

"Well, apology for asking your business but, are you alright? I heard a loud, uh, 'thump', should I say?"

"Oh, no! It's fine. I just... dropped my phone."

"Oh, alright. Sorry..." Alfred stared at the awkward Arthur, standing at the doorway and waited for something else, for the fact he was still here. Not by means of not liking his company but it's definitely unusual for the Brit to stay just to 'hang out'.

"Well, actually I was wondering about something..." He blushed as he finally spoke out, "W-What... did you mean by what you said... a-at the restaurant, earlier today?"

Alfred sat still, not knowing whether to laugh or get mad at the flashback. He just mentally slapped himself.

"WELL, I HAVE NO IDEA!"

"HAHA! OF COARSE! MAKES WONDERFUL SENSE!"

"LIKE I'D MEAN ANYTHING BY THAT, RIGHT?"

"YES, YOU'RE RIGHT! RIDICULOUS!"

"HAHAHAHA..."

"HAHA..."

Alfred had found himself speaking loudly out of awkwardness and Arthur followed not wanting to make any situation worse. It actually made things more so awkward when they had nothing else to yell with. In the end, Arthur slipped out of the room and went back to his study and Alfred laid back on his bed and physically slapped himself. "Shit"

* * *

The wind blew hard and he swore he saw a shadow of a branch fall down past his window. The rain beat the windows and rolled down like a waterfall. Alfred covered his head with an absorbing pillow but the noise still slithered through to reach his ears. Alfred whined and reluctantly took off the pillow hat and let his hair follow it through static. He looked up at the clock and squinted. he stuck his tongue out at the ticking machine then rummaged near his bedside looking for his spectacles. He placed them perfectly on the bridge of his nose and got out of bed, for lack of knowing what else to do in bed.

He walked down the dark hallway, yawning. A loud crash woke him awake. "That was definitely not lightning" He comprehended as he ran to the source of the sound and found himself towering above Arthur. "A-Arthur!" He embraced the shaking figure and tried to avoid the glass cutting his knees underneath him, his blood spreading with the warm tea. he rubbed Arthur's back and quietly shushed a lullaby as he picked him up and carried him to his master bed.

Alfred sat beside Arthur, and waited for him to shut those emerald eyes. He slowly slipped off the comfy bed and was headed to his own when he stopped his track to look back. His shirt was being tugged by shaking fingers. Arthur's face was once again stained with tears. "Al..." Alfred enlarged his eyes as he listened closely but was cut off by Arthur coming back to absolute consciousness. "Oh... I-I'm sorry, Matthew. Y-You can go back-"

"No."

Arthur looked up at Alfred's sky blue eyes, slightly surprised.

"I'll stay with you." Alfred smiled, kindly. Arthur wanted him by his side so much but, that would be wrong... wouldn't it?

"N-No, go ahead and-"

A loud crash of lightning interrupted him and he jumped wrapping himself inside Alfred, um, Matthew's surprisingly strong arms.

"Haha. See? I'm sure you want me to stay too, hm?"

Arthur just stood still but eventually nodded. Alfred slowly and carefully handling him, laid down on the bed and let his nose sink into Arthur's messy, chamomile-scented hair. In return Arthur deepened his face within Alfred's thin t-shirt. Arthur fell asleep, wrapped in the scent of vanilla that reminded him of his Alfred.

A quick hour passed as an American groggily opened his eyes to a still, dark midnight sky. He looked down a bit and found Arthur calmly sleeping. "How adorable can this British baby get? Artie, you're going to make this hard for me to keep my distance... of our faces, you know?" He thought, biting his bottom lip and staring at Arthur's angelic presence. "Just... one won't hurt nobody, right?" He argued his mind.

After a time passing of Alfred staring at Arthur and arguing the pros and cons of touching him, he made up his mind. He slipped out his left arm, for his other was already wrapped around Arthur, and caressed his beautiful face. No matter how big those brows were, he was gorgeous. He hesitated but came closer to Arthur's face.

Before he could have second thoughts of sanity, he found his lips softly placed on Arthur's.

What's worse was that he didn't regret it. At all.

Arthur's eyes opened gently as he wondered if heaven found him. He found Matthew stealing his lips. Arthur retreated slowly his eyes staring at Matthew in shock. More so because of the fact he hated himself for not regretting it.

He took the back of Alfred's neck with desperate fingers and kissed him back.

"This is bad. This is very bad. Alfred... I can't stop!" Arthur's inner voice clouded his mind as he let Matthew's tongue enter without hesitation.


	8. Chapter 8: Pepper

WARNING: This passage contains a PruCan reference, an improper use of language, and a small dose of BL/Yaoi (reader's discretion is advised)

* * *

Chapter Eight: Pepper

"AAAAHHHH!" Arthur screamed.

"GAAAHHHH!" Alfred yelled back.

"Out! Out! Matthew!" Arthur continued as he clenched fists into the curtains with his eyes closed and watery. "Holy crap! C-Can't you see I'm trying! It's so small!" Alfred grunted as he reached deeper. "Of course it is! It's my bloody first one! Just get it out! GAAAHHH!"

"It's coming out!"

"Yes, please, I beg of you! Hurry up!"

"GAAAAHHH!" Alfred whined as he grabbed the small rodent under the table, by its small body and raised it high. "WHOOHOO! It's out! The deadly beast is out!" Alfred yelled victoriously. Arthur was still looking away and plugging his nose from the landfill smell that the rat was spreading through the entire kitchen.

"It's not out, idiot! Throw it away already!"

Alfred looked up at Arthur and smirked, giving the Brit a mortifying shiver. "W-What?" Alfred walked over swiftly and raised the squirming rodent right up to his petrified face.

"AAAAHHHHHH!" Arthur screamed once again jumping off the mahogany table and away from the rat, running around, as the American followed close behind laughing his brainless head off. The savage was practically larger than his head and was more than probable of carrying a disease of some sort. Either way, it still had a more mature and smarter brain than Matthew had.

Now that he thought of it, Matthew had changed a lot. A large obvious impact from the accident perhaps. He was wilder, more energetic, obnoxiously immature and, to put it simply, more American. As if Alfred and Matthew had somehow switched personalities when they got hit in the head like those supernatural movies where one gets a fortune of some sort and gets switched with the person they love or their mother.

It was actually amusing. In a way, it made his everyday life into a comedy skit.

"Dear goodness! I almost died, you git of an idiot!" Arthur gasped as he rubbed his throat as if he just got choked and was trying to severely recover while plopping beside Alfred to rest his head on the armrest. "Come on! That was nothing!" Alfred laughed charmingly beside him, "Doesn't Alfred always freak you out whenever he makes pasta mustaches?" Arthur looked to his left and stared at Alfred as the American paused to rethink what he just said. "Uh..." Alfred tried to think of a quick excuse.

"You know pasta monster?" Arthur said amused. "_Oh yeah!_" Alfred thought, "_he's into those fantasy things, isn't he?_"

"No, no, no. Al just told me how freaked out you were and how you started banging a spatula on his head. He got a huge bruise here you know?" Alfred pointed to the right said of his head and put his sad face that tried to impersonate a baby bear or something. He just looked like a duck. Arthur snickered and Alfred raised a brow. "What?"

"You... You just look like, Alfred when you do that," He replied to the child-like adult. Alfred gave an emotionless gaze at the Brit, observing him, looking a small bit annoyed.

"W-what is it? Something on face perhaps?" Arthur wondered as he rubbed his palms on his cheeks hoping to find the smudge. In truth, Arthur knew it was most likely nothing on his face. He just needed an excuse to get out of Matthew's gaze, no matter how overused that excuse was. Alfred suddenly placed his own hands around Arthur's and held them in front of him. "How about Al?"

"W-What?"

"Well, I was always wondering why you keep calling me-uh-my brother, Alfred. Don't couples have like, cute names to call each other? So, Al, at least?"

Arthur widened his eyes in understanding but looked away, pretending to think of a name for Alfred. Nothing came to mind because all he could think of right now was how bloody close Matthew was to him. "_Just try to think of something! It will definitely get your mind off- ahhh! Is that vanilla? It can't be! I can't believe how nice that smells... hmmm... Ack! Focus, for goodness's sake, Arthur!_" Arthur fought in his mind hoping that flying mint bunny didn't think he was going insane.

Arthur thought and remembered a comedy show Alfred used to watch often. "Ahahaha! Isn't that what married couples t-try to do when they don't want the other to know their in a relationship w-with their assistant who's pregnant and c-calls him just to say how big and enticing his **** is?" Arthur laughed awkwardly not knowing exactly his mouth just spit out. He glanced up at Alfred.

Alfred had his mouth gaped open and he started staring Arthur down like he just found out he was the murderer that killed his mother and held his sister captive.

"W-What the-" Alfred paused before he started laughing, an uncontrollable snort here and there. This lasted for six minutes straight. The only thing Arthur got out of those few minutes were a ringing ear and an observation of how similar Matthew and Alfred laughed. It was actually comforting, more deafening, but let's keep it positive.

* * *

"Artie!"

"Yes, Matthew?"

"Got a name yet?"

"Well, no. But what's wrong with just Alfred?"

"It's not cute" Alfred put bluntly. Arthur sighed, "Why would that be important to you anyway? Did Alfred turn up in your dreams and beg you to make me a name for him?"

"Yeah." And Arthur sighed once again. "Why would you care if I was cute? You know that's not what makes a person cu-" Arthur froze as strong arms wrapped around his waist and a warm, tickling breath passed beside his red ear. "You're cute, Artie. You just need to let Alfred die in peace." Alfred most likely tried to make it sound funny but the way he whispered is and the position he was in made the statement sound alluring.

Arthur was quickly turning into a beet cooking in his raising body temperature. Damn this Canadian boy taking after his brother. Arthur was prepared for battle, he didn't care how far he went as long as he won against this big bully. Which definitely be a challenge because he looked so much like his sexy American brother.

Alfred looked closely at Arthur's face and laughed. "I think I might call you 'pepper' from now on! Look how red you are!"

Arthur fussed but turned around so they were face to face and wrapped his slender arms around Matthew's neck, making sure he brushed past, with luck of genes and similarity, the ticklish part that this boy's brother had.

Matthew reacted perfectly, squirming and loosening the knot around Arthur's small waist. Arthur smirked hoping that Matthew was defeated but as the Canadian boy came back to reality, the arms grew tighter pulling their faces closer. Arthur's face was beet red once again. Arthur scoffed and he was ready to move to his final blow.

Arthur brushed his lips against Matthew's ear and whispered through air, "How cute am I, Matthew?" He moved his face to the solidified boy's face and pulled down his neck, bending his back to lay on the granite counters, still half a centimeter of a gap between their faces. Arthur could see the cold sweat of how hard Alf- Matthew was sustaining his pride.

"_Not anymore_," Arthur thought before he licked Matthew's bottom lip, hoping it would finally end the battle because he was at the limit of holding back, putting his tongue inside Matthew's mouth and tasting the boy's pearly whites. Matthew thankfully jumped back and slammed his palms against the granite island that was glistening behind him. He was nearly about to say something as his face became cherry juice but just ran upstairs to his room and slammed the door.

"Oh my god!" Alfred breathed heavily as he grabbed strands of hair and clenched it. "Don't do this to me, Artie! Like, seriously!"

* * *

"Matthew! Your Italian pizza is here!" Alfred heard through his room. "Okay!" He called back while he ripped his earplug out his left ear and pressed the off button of his phone. He clambered off the covers of the double bed and rushed down to the first floor where plates with two pepperoni pizzas deliciously placed on one plate and a cheese slice on another. Of coarse he took the pepperoni dish and he hurriedly sat on the silk couch.

Arthur grumbled behind him. "Whach?" Alfred tried to ask with a mouthful of tomato and dough inside his mouth.

"Your manners are unbelievable. Where did that sweet mannerism go?"

"With my brother." Alfred comically responded stuffing his mouth with more Italian delicacy.

Arthur shook his head and softly sat down beside the loud man. "_Loud_?" Arthur repeated through his mind, "_when did Matthew become loud? Is he... he was trying to make me feel comforted by acting like Alfred, isn't he? What a sweet boy_." Arthur smiled to himself and looked down at his slice. "Matthew?"

"Yeah?" He responded after gulping down the pizza. His eyes flashed in immense size. Arthur was softly kissing his cheek, his ruby-turning cheeks. He swerved his head to look to his left right after the lips retreated. "Thank you." Arthur concluded with a disease-curing smile. Alfred gulped and wiped the sauce on the corners of his mouth. He hung his head to look down to his feet.

"You know, you just burst my limits, Artie." Arthur tried to see Matthew's face to comprehend what he just said. Matthew's face looked up instantly and intensely gazed into Arthur's eyes as he smoothly inched closer, all fours now moving closer to Arthur's body. Alfred found himself wanting to eat him up again as he crawled so close to Arthur that the sandy-haired man was under and between his strong American arms.

"M-M-Matthew... W-W-What is it?" Arthur stuttered as the smell of vanilla came back to his nose and the feel of soft locks on his cheeks tickled his pride. "I..." Matthew seemed to start, "I really... lik-"

Then the wretched bell rang as the two men mentally sighed in disappointment.

Alfred rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed and full of regret. "_What the hell am I doing to Artie? He thinks that I'm my brother!_"

Alfred got up and off of Arthur and headed to answer the continuous buzzing of a guest. As he was about to turn the brass knob, he turned back and grinned at the boy still laying on the couch. Arthur blushed.

"W-W-Why am I blushing? Goodness! This is so immature! People only should blush if they lov-" Arthur became afraid to finish the sentence. "I don't actually lo-... Matthew?" He questioned himself. After a small while, he shook his head. "That's absurd! Why would I love-"

Arthur heard a loud call to finish off his sentence for him, "Matthew!" followed by an act that could be compared to being shot in the heart.

A man with blood-colored eyes and snowy hair, jumped at Matthew, wrapped his muscular arms around his shoulders and suddenly, like lightning, placed the man's own chapped, sticky, disgusting lips on Matthew's heaven-made mouth.

And so Arthur turned red. A dark, destructive, flaming red.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

This is the longest chapter and may be the longest ever. I am proud. Very Proud.

I hope you are enjoying "Unlike Any Other" so far. (first fan fiction and all) But I am starting the plot of a new project. Do not worry! I will still definitely finish "Unlike Any Other" but I'll be posting a new story to work on after the next chapter or two. I'm also thinking of doing a quick one shot just for fun.

Besides that, I bid you happy reading!


	9. Chapter 9: Lips of Healing

Warning: This passage contains swearing and a small dose of yaoi/BL (reader's discretion is advised)  


* * *

Chapter Nine: Lips Of Healing  


"G-Gilbert?" Alfred stuttered surprised and extremely embarrassed. "W-What the hell was that?"

"I love you!" Gilbert spurted out desperately as he continued to cling around Alfred's neck like a noose. Alfred widened his eyes and laughed awkwardly, hoping it was a misunderstanding and that his mate was just drunk like he always was. "Y-You're kidding, right? Tell me you're kidding, Gil!" Alfred shook the German man desperately.

"Awesome people don't joke! I'm honest about this!" Gilbert insisted. Alfred looked into the German's ruby eyes and found the boy to seriously be serious about this serious situation.

"B-… But I..." Alfred couldn't bring himself to reject his best friend. They were best mates in high school and even hung together in the college football team. Alfred never missed Gilbert's beer parties and Gilbert never missed his parties. Sure, he thought of Gilbert as the best pal any man could ever have but, he just didn't feel that certain way about him.

Even still, he couldn't bring himself to reject him. First of all, they were the best of all buds that were the same height and last time Alfred checked, he liked small, skinny, non-muscular, British boys. Second, even he was surprised a lady-flirting, macho man like Gilbert could turn out to be gay. Third, a cold, deadly aura coming from behind him, was keeping Alfred frozen and wordless.

At this reaction, Gilbert misunderstood and repeated himself, "I love you, Mattie!"

Oh. Now it made sense. Gil liked Mattie, not him. He sighed, relieved and a teasing feeling came to his mind. "So, why now, of all times?"

Gilbert seemed to think for a moment and his face brightened, "Well, I've liked you for a while now, ever since Al's party... so," Gilbert started tearing up and tried to speed blink to try and hold it back. "Why did Al have to die, Mat? Why? He was the awesomeness friend ever. He did nothing wrong, right? RIGHT? How the fucking hell could this happen to him?"

Alfred widened his indigo eyes, staring at Gilbert cry for his brother. It hit his heart like an arrow, the pain reminding him of his beloved pal. The pain burned even more of the fact that the one Gilbert loved is the one actually waving down from heaven. Alfred's eyes started to water and he gave in, eyes trickling rapid tears. "_Crap! I don't want to show these tears to Arthur now!_"

Alfred turned red from embarrassment and, out of reflex, he buried his head on Gilbert's chest, used to the times when he was dumped by his previous relationships and Gilbert was there to comfort and drink with him. Gilbert on the other hand, apparently not knowing that this was his own genius work of his Matthew-turned Alfred, grew a deep red to camouflage with his irises.

"M-M-Matthew? W-What are you doing? I mean, this is awesome but, w-what hell the you is doing?" Gilbert rambled, panicked and confused to the point his grammar became like a young child's. Alfred realized what he was doing and completely became shocked, remembering that he was not Alfred to Gilbert. He jumped back and put his hands up high and started apologizing speedily.

Gilbert's reaction was somewhat very accepting, as he hugged Alfred and kissed the baffled boy, again. Alfred tried to jump back but reminding him of how Gilbert won every arm wrestle, he couldn't get out of his hold. He gave a small look behind him of an flaming British man and instantly looked straight ahead, frightened. "U-Um, Gilbert? Please let me go?"

There was suddenly a pause between the two friends that Arthur couldn't comprehend. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, loud screeching noises defined an underrated song.

"LET IT GO! LET IT GO! CAN'T HOLD-"

"Oh, heavens' sake! Just don't. Please, I beg of you!" Arthur stated, looking horrified as the duo laughed their dumb heads off. After what seemed like hours, Alfred and Gilbert finally start hitting the breaks and smiled at each other, crazily. "You are so lively now, Mattie! I thought that you'd be crying and sobbing your way to sleep still, ja?" Gilbert observed and Alfred understandingly smiled.

"_He would've. He definitely would've._"

"Hey! Wanna come to my room? I got some games I can destroy you with!" Alfred beamed enthusiastically. Gilbert nodded in astonishment that Matthew could actually say something like that. Even how quickly he got over the confession. "_That's new..._" Gilbert wondered as he followed the new, muscular, wild, Matthew up to his room.

* * *

Arthur looked down onto his distorted reflection on the green, ceramic plate.

He sighed, looked up to the ceiling and groaned, annoyed and angered. Arthur enlarged his eyes and mentally scolded himself. "What am I thinking? I'm being that overprotective mother again! They're just playing some games. Besides the fact, Matthew didn't answer the twerp's confession... Bloody hell. Just focus on the dishes." But as Arthur returned to his cleaning, the ceramic had already shattered and was sinking into the warm, foam-filled water.

"_Another one_?" Arthur started to fish out the broken pieces as he thought of different shops and compared which one sold the best ceramic plates. A sudden surge entered Arthur's arm and he pulled out in agony, slamming his back into the island behind him, and holding his arm from the pain. He slowly slid down to the tiled floors, looking closely to the wound. He waited as he watched the blood lazily drip down from his fore-finger.

Arthur instantly thought of Alfred and tears started rolling. The American wouldn't miss a single second to aid Arthur whenever he got hurt. He would closely look into the wound, wrapping a band aid or gauze on it and ask him a million times if he was absolutely alright. He would kneel down and kiss the scratch, bruise or anything, as if his kiss had some magical powers to heal it. And every single time, Arthur would instantly forget that he ever got hurt because, to him, that kiss was indeed magical.

Arthur continued to watch the drop of blood gradually slither it's way to his wrist, reminding him that, surely, Alfred wasn't going to kiss it away.

And as if his thoughts were heard from the heavens, a loud thumping coming from upstairs, became closer and suddenly stood in front of his eyes, kneeling. He looked into Arthur's emeralds and smiled, worriedly. "Artie. You okay? What happened?" Alfred asked softly still worried and wondering. Arthur widened his green eyes and stared at Matthew. This man looked so much like his Alfred... no wonder he fell in love with him too.

He mentally apologized to Alfred.

Alfred softened his eyes. "Can you show me?" Arthur nodded and raised his hand up to rest on Matthew's held out hand. But the young Canadian boy widened his eyes in horror and screamed.

Arthur became alarmed and asked in rapid speed what it was that was so terrifying. Matthew suddenly depleted the space between them, looking Arthur straight in his eyes and crying. "Artie! Arthur! Art! Artieee! Don't die on meeeeee!" and with that, another pair of clambering feet came to what is now a murder scene and the German became panicked as well.

"What the hell is going o-! AHHHH! The British monster is dying!" Gilbert cried. Alfred looked up at the also screaming man, with his sad puppy eyes and, without letting go of Arthur, pleaded Gilbert to call the ambulance as soon as possible. He saluted at the command and quickly ran around, scattering papers and cutlery, trying to find the phone. But everything froze as they heard a clear laugh from the victim. Alfred and Gilbert stared at the laughing Arthur.

"No, no, no! I am not dying!" Arthur reassured after his laughing fit. "It's just a small scratch!"

"B-But look at the blood!" Alfred quickly said back as Gilbert nodded behind him with a serious face. "No, my body just works that way. I'm not dying, I promise." Arthur replied to the two. There was a pause and then a booming laugh from the two men. "Okay, okay. Since you are okay, beängstigend Brit, I am going to continue my top score in the game, ja?" Gilbert said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh! Wait, Gil! Could you get the first aid in that top cabinet near the lamp? Thanks." Gilbert pointed to one cabinet door and Alfred nodded as Gilbert took out a small first aid and left it beside Alfred. Gilbert saluted once again and left to finish his simulated battle.

Arthur blushed as he figured that Matthew and him were alone again, sitting on the floor, so close, there was no room to breathe. Arthur's arm was gently pulled closer to Matthew and a large band-aid was wrapped around the man's finger with care. Alfred got up and took a small towel, wet it and came back down to Arthur, wiping the extra blood off.

Arthur stared at Matthew, absorbed at how carefully he treated his wound as if it depended on his life. His day-dreaming was interrupted with a literal snap of a finger. "There! All better! Are you sure you're okay though?"

Arthur nodded. "You're absolutely fine?" Arthur nodded, faster and more clearer. "Positive?" Arthur rolled his eyes and nodded. Alfred laughed in relief and peered at Arthur. "You sure you don't want me to check again?"

Arthur groaned playfully. "Yes I'm fine, I said. I am alive and wonderful. So, stop asking, will you, Alfred?"

The air grew thick like molasses as Arthur rethought of what he just called him and Alfred gazing at Arthur with near wonder in his eyes. Alfred opened his mouth to speak, "y-you called me-"

"I-I am so sorry, Matthew. I didn't mean to call you that. It just-" Arthur was interrupted by a sudden touch he longed for, for months now. A kiss that Alfred had always given him whenever he hurt himself. The magic touch that Matthew apparently had as well. And as the man's soft lips touched his skin, the pain disappeared as if it was never there to begin with.

Alfred looked up at the red Arthur and smirked, touching their foreheads. "...Pepper."

And Arthur twitched and slowly backed away and placed his long fingers on Alfred's soft cheeks and stared into Matthew's lavender irises. He pulled his wavy hair back and kissed Matthew's forehead, as a thank you that he always did with this boy's brother. Alfred became surprised, swept away all his senses and pushed Arthur's back into the island again.

He came closer to Arthur's heated face and brushed his lips with his. "I-" Alfred's voice was cut off with a pair of lips shushing him. "Thank you, Matthew," Arthur whispered and they touched again, passionately locking lips and tasting each others' pearly whites. It was most definitely the spell he thought only Alfred could cast. This was magic too.

They parted, breathing heavily and their dream was instantly broken with reality and an alarming sound. The sound of hard plastic hitting the flooring, echoed through the kitchen walls, into their ears and past the feet of a third figure standing and watching in complete speechlessness. Alfred slowly separated his shocked face to look up at a certain German boy.

Who loved Matthew. Since long ago.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

_'beängstigend Brit'- is German for 'scary Brit'_

_ceramic - essential, inorganic, nonmetallic materials that are commonly used for daily life. (In this instance it was a plate)_

So this was very close to beating the last chapter but the other one was still a very few words away.

Anyways, I bid you happy reading.

P.S.

The other story is doing well. Its not really the sweetest story ever but its kind of related to something bad this author did. For Ice Cube. If she ever reads this.


	10. Chapter 10: Prayers For The Troubled

Warning: this passage contains major swearing (reader's discretion is advised)

* * *

Chapter Ten: Prayers For The Troubled

Alfred stared silently as an Englishman beside him stayed just as quiet, not daring to look into those ruby jewels.

The air was thick like blood and completely suffocating as two set of eyes tried to fight and comprehend each other. Gilbert broke the silence with a barely audible scoff. "Now you decide to be quiet." The words hung in the air and pained Alfred's head with guilt as his eyes traveled to look at the ground that was covered by pieces of his broken controller and he swallowed non-existent saliva down his dry throat. He heard another scoff and nearing footsteps. Alfred kept his head down, scared of looking at his best friend's face; he already felt those angered eyes staring down at him. Everything after, was terrifying, in a way.

Arthur was left breathless and terrified after he saw Matthew being pulled by the rim of his grey shirt and taken upstairs by the German monster. He hung his head low, full of guilt and frustration. His hands shakily covered his face and he prayed, to anyone who even cared, for Matthew and asked forgiveness from Alfred.

He knew he had to stop this. He knew he had to forget him. He knew he couldn't love him. At least he shouldn't. "What the bloody hell am I doing?" Arthur whispered, full of anger to himself.

He only loves Alfred. Always will. Then why is it he keeps thinking of Matthew? Why does he find those eyes so sad that he wants to comfort him? Why does he find that soft fragrance of maple vanilla so relieving? Why does that smile take all his worries away? Why can't he stop thinking about him? "I don't love him. I love Alfred" Arthur thought, "I love only him. Alfred. He will always be the one I dream of, think of, deeply care for, and love. Period. Concluded. The End. There is no sequel, no problem and no audition. It's final. Alfred is whom I will love and forever more."

'Matthew' his clock sounded.

"No. Alfred. Only Alfred. I will only think of Alfred. I will only love Alfred." Arthur decided, determined. His lips shaking.

'Matthew, Matthew' the wind hummed.

"Alfred, Alfred, Alfred, Alfred, Alfred" He chanted, covering his ears.

'Matthew, Matthew, Matthew' his heart banged.

"Al-f-red" Arthur sounded out his name, trying to picture Alfred in his mind but the more he tried, the harder it was to rid of the thought of the Canadian man. He dropped his arms to the side of body, his knuckles hit the floor, he held his head high and cried helplessly, admitting defeat to not only his mind but to the world that seemed to also mentally disorganize his dignity.

"He has your smile, Alfred." Arthur mumbled, closing his eyes and ending his prayer.

* * *

"Don't kill me." Alfred held his hands out after his back hit the wall and his bottom jumped up and down on the bed. Gilbert had slammed and locked the bedroom door behind him and is now staring at Alfred intently from the front of the door. He had the eyes of a hungry hyena staring at a young gazelle, ready to hunt and kill. But Gilbert's hands formed shaky fists and his mouth was slightly twitching. Alfred knew what this was.

Gilbert usually looked like this when he was about to have a misunderstood fight. He looked like this when he just confessed to someone he thought was cute and got rejected instantly. He appeared like this when he stared down at his brother's gravestone whenever it was his birthday. He looked calm, strong, determined. Yet as if he was about to burst into a sea of tears.

Alfred would always want to comfort him somehow and would always want to try to make him laugh or smile like he always did. He wanted to help him so badly right now. But whenever he was like this, not a single soul could waver him. Alfred was about to say something when Gilbert spoke himself.

"Do you know what the hell you're doing?"

Alfred narrowed his eyebrows and became confused, swallowing and looking away. "How could you?" Gilbert continued firmly, "How the fuck could you do that, Matthew?" Alfred still continued to idle and look down, not knowing how or what to answer. But Gilbert went on.

"You traitor."

Alfred widened his eyes and looked up bewildered and absolutely stunned, his eyes wide and looking straight into Gilbert's, trying to grasp what he was getting at. "W-What?" He managed to say. Gilbert shook his head, not believing how Matthew could be this dazed. "Okay, I get why you didn't answer me when I confessed. But a simple 'no' would have been taken more easily than this shit! I don't EVER want anyone to take my feelings that fucking lightly!" Gilbert yelled at the top of his lungs and Alfred could feel the house shake.

"I-I never meant to do that! W-What you saw down there Gil, had nothing to do with you liking Ma-me! I would NEVER, EVER think of taking your whole being lightly! I swear this on my life!" Alfred tried to reassure just as firmly. Gilbert sneered with an angry smile. "Unbelievable. You weren't even holding back when you were stealing the guy's mouth! My feelings are burning but when it comes to the people I care about, I swear I'll commit a crime. Fucking asshole!" Gilbert pointed his whole arm at Matthew, tightening his jaw.

Alfred breathed heavily, his mind burning to try to find what other thing could apparently be bad enough to endanger his life. In the meantime, Gilbert was giving death warnings and was getting closer, giving Alfred shivers with every loud step. When Gilbert was towering above him, he gulped and cold sweat ran down every inch of his skin and he mumbled a small prayer to helplessly save him.

"Why Kirkland?"

"W-What?"

"Why him? Of all the people in Frisco, why did you have to take that one? Or do you actually have feelings for him?" Gilbert asked calmly.

"I..." Alfred tried to think of an answer. He loved Arthur. Arthur loved him. They were even dating. For him, it was even love at first sight. So, why couldn't Gil see that as easily as he could now? Gilbert didn't wait for him to answer and he spoke again, "Don't you even care about the situation that man is in?" Alfred listened intently as if he was in the shows that had patients with such hopeful spirits that the doctor was going to tell them their child was alright. He was just as prepared to hear that their child was not going to live.

"Do you even know what situation Arthur is in?" Gilbert stated, looking emotionless. Alfred raised a brow. "What do you mean?"

"Arthur is a grieving dude that lost his boyfriend" Gilbert exclaimed, getting annoyed at Matthew for the first time. Gilbert sighed, not ready to stare at the teary-eyed Matthew that he hurt. Gilbert paused his thoughts and stared confused at the wall beside him. "That's right." Gilbert thought, "He... doesn't act like that anymore. He doesn't cry anymore. He isn't my Matthew anymore." Gilbert finally looked in front of him to find Matthew, in shock. "This... isn't Matthew, ja?"

Alfred sat gripping the bed sheets under his sweaty palms. He totally forgot about this whole situation. The very reason why Gilbert was here. Why he was here. Why Arthur would cry every singe night. He looked up at Gilbert, his best friend, that doesn't even know him anymore. He opened his mouth to apologize, "Gil, I'm so-"

"Shut up." Alfred widened his eyes to try to comprehend what that was supposed to mean. Gilbert had his right palm shakily covering his flushed face. His eyes were looking at every direction but him, his jaws were clenched, his other hand shook softly by his side and his eyes... were filled with tears. Alfred felt a grey cloud of guilt come over him and he stood up to try to hug his best bud, probably was prepared to get pushed back. But Gilbert hung his white head on Alfred's chest and held back, grabbing his t-shirt with his shaking hands.

"Al?" he whispered with a warm, shaky breathe.

Alfred opened his mouth in astonishment, letting go of Gilbert and stepping back. He covered his own mouth with his hands and stared at Gilbert. Alfred swallowed and swung a hand to rub the back of his head and the other made a shaking fist, touching his mouth. "You," Alfred mumbled through his hand, "You said... My name! My actual anime!" Gilbert quickly nodded in response sniffing his snot behind the hands that covered his mouth.

Alfred grinned happily and started pacing around the room, a joyful sound escaping him here and there. His hands moved rapidly through his body, clenching fists, rubbing his neck, ruffling his hair and continuing to cover his opened mouth. Finally he faced back to the also excited German boy in front of him and loudly exclaimed, "You know me!" Gilbert once again nodded and this time replied, "Yeah."

Alfred shut his eyes tightly, biting his lip and his mouth grinning so much it hurt but, he didn't care. Someone finally knows Alfred Jones again. And better yet, it was his best friend in the entire universe. Alfred ran to Gilbert with his arms wide and they held each other tightly, laughing, crying, smothering snot all over each others' shirts, like the good old days. The best days. Desperate prayers do get answered.

"I missed you, Al! I missed you so fucking much!"

"You too, Gil. I missed you like hell too, man!" Alfred replied joyfully and finally stepped back to stop air-blocking Gilbert. Well, the German was creating a noose for him too. They stared at each other for another long while before bursting out laughing.

"You look like shit!" They yelled at the same time.

* * *

Arthur heard two sets of footsteps coming down the stairs and laughter came with it.

He hurriedly got up from his position on the disgustingly dirty floors and bent down, picking up the broken remote and wiping his face from any residue. As the two men made their appearances near the kitchen, Arthur quickly scurried to the sink to hide his flushed face. He rapidly tried to think of something to say, trying join the obviously lightened up mood. "S-So, I'm glad you didn't kill Matthew, Mr. Beilschmidt." He quickly joked.

No reaction. Rather than odd whispering coming from behind him and nervous auras. He suddenly heard through the private conversation: "He doesn't know?" and Arthur snapped. "What is it that I don't know?" He asked but came out commanding and harsh. Gilbert opened his mouth but slowly closed it and turned the other direction. Alfred was biting his lip and looking at the stove beside him. He suddenly started laughing, the tinge of nervousness so obvious, the other side of the world could sense it.

"N-Nothing! Nothing at all!" And Alfred prayed for someone to save him again.

* * *

**Author's Notes**:

I apologise.

I haven't been on since the Jurassic times. Nearly two months. I will make sure, on my grave, that the next chapters to come will not take centuries like that ever again. I'm sorry.

Well, I hope you liked this happy reunion. I've never used language like that so much in my entire life. It was definitely new. I give my thanks on the German teachings on the last chapter. Thank you, kind friend. And I also found that many of you may be confused on Alfred being called "Matthew and Alfred" on different times, always changing.

Alfred is known as 'Matthew' in the point of view of someone who does not know he's Alfred. For example: Arthur (Used to also be Gilbert but now he'll be reffering to Alfred as 'Alfred/Al' because of the reunion)

Alfred is known as 'Alfred' in his own thoughts and (now) those who know him to be Alfred and not Matthew. Example: Gilbert now.

I hope that helped to some of you and I bid you happy reading.


	11. Chapter 11: That One Friend

WARNING: A small amount of swearing and little dose of yaoi/BL (reader's discretion is advised)

* * *

Chapter Eleven: That One Friend  


Arthur raised an impressive brow, arms folded and face very expectant yet awfully blunt.

Alfred glanced up at the reddened, emerald irises, then quickly looked away. "Nothing," He spoke again, silently creeping his blue eyes to meet with blood red others beside him. Gilbert seemed to be asking him what he was planning to do, with the oblivious Arthur, and if he should speak up, all said with his ruby jewels. Alfred replied with the slightest shake.

Arthur stared at their slightly childish and silent conversation. Were they hiding something from him? Was Matthew hiding something from him? He quickly spoke due to sudden impatience, "Matthew, I'd like to see you in my study, please. Mister Beilschmidt, you may watch in the cavern downstairs." Alfred had no time to react before he was taken by his wrist and nearly dragged to the room down a quiet hall. Gilbert, mouth opened, flung his arms in the air, an "I don't care" in his mind, and turned to his right that lead to a flight of darkening stairs.

Alfred stumbled and tripped on top of his feet a few million times before he felt he was released from his cuffs. The room was dark, barely anything can be made into a proper standing shape. Then the lights streamed in as Arthur opened a wide curtain, revealing wooden floors, bookshelves and memories of two laughing men, forgetting how to dance, caught up in deep emotions and sweet kisses. Alfred softened his eyes, half from breathlessness and half from great awe.

"A-Arthur?" He said, awaiting whatever was to come, for better or for worse.

Arthur looked out at the clear sunset, colors and life breathing through his entire being. Like he was glowing, he beautiful. Arthur turned back to look at Matthew, unsure what to do next. He rubbed his chin, thinking why exactly he brought Matthew here and it hit him.

"I," he spoke, still thinking things through, " I would like to talk about Alfred."

Alfred couldn't help let out a small sound from his gaping mouth at the sudden name, coming from Arthur. His felt his heartbeat race, pounding through ears and paralyzing his brain. First, Gilbert realizing, then Arthur calling his name so sternly and sure. This was a very happy day. Alfred covered his mouth and cleared his throat and instantly looked the other way. "G-Go ahead," he decided to answer.

"I mean, if you are still sensitive about the subject, I completely understand why you wouldn't want to..." Arthur reassured, unable to read what Matthew was thinking.

True. It was a delicate subject that would break him whenever it came up but, Arthur wasn't going to talk about his brother. He was going to talk about him. Alfred took his hand off from his relaxed face, nodded and faced Arthur with an understanding smile, "No, go ahead."

Arthur sighed, relieved. Nerves took over as he played with his fingers before taking a deep breath and speaking again, "I love Alfred. I miss him more than my flat in England. I love the way he turns every worst situation into a party. I love how he lightens the room just with his presence. I love his laugh. I love his voice. I miss him." At this point, Arthur's eyes have started to shimmer with clear beads and he was shaking at every memory that was surfacing in his mind. "But he isn't beside me anymore."

"I am," Alfred thought, tightening his jaws and biting lip.

"he isn't laughing anymore," Arthur continued.

"I try."

"he isn't holding me anymore"

"I want to."

"I want him to take me from behind, blindfold my eyes and scream, 'guess who?'"

"I'll do it." Alfred was now mouthing his words.

"I want him to hold my hands and kiss them." Arthur held his hands out in front of him and buried his face.

"I will" Alfred mumbled, answering quietly. He clenched his palms into fists, as his beating chest urges him to do just as Arthur wanted.

"I... want to feel my lips against his again." Arthur finally said after a long pause of leaning against the mahogany desk behind him and hiding his face from the mask his hands were creating. Alfred turned crimson from head to toe. Without thinking of what is to come he answered, "Go ahead." Arthur looked up instantly, surprised and embarrassed. His red cheeks shimmered with warm tears and his mouth slightly parted, though unable to respond back. He simply gawked at Matthew for the daring answer.

Alfred instantly became aware of the bold phrase his horrible mouth released. He tightened the grip in his hands and swallowed hard as he repeated what he said, more sure and making him much, much more scarlet than he possibly was. "Go ahead." Arthur turned rosy-cheeked. He was most definitely tempted. He walked over to Matthew and placed his hands on his chest, making them look so much smaller than they actually were as they blended with the huge space of Matthew's surprisingly large body. He looked up into those sad eyes and gave a small smile. "I can't."

Alfred's eyebrow twitched at the soft rejection. "Why?"

"Whenever you hold me or kiss me or even come near me my heart beats fast and I love it." Arthur answered truthfully. Alfred sighed, a little bit frustrated. So, what's wrong with that? What's wrong with feeling great? What's wrong with loving kisses from your partner? Arthur interrupted his thoughts with a clear explanation, "I feel like I'm betraying Alfred, Matthew. I can't."

"Why do I have to forget the most important factor of every fricken situation?" He scolded himself mentally and hung his head, releasing Arthur from his bubble.

The door creaked open and a white head popped out. "Hallo?" Gilbert slipped in his body as if the door couldn't open any wider. Gilbert saluted playfully, smiling wide and showing teeth as white as his snow-colored hair. "Hey... Matthew... can I borrow ya for a sec?" He asked, directing to Arthur. Arthur was facing away from him in an instinct to hide his wet face but slightly nodded in response. Alfred gave Arthur a downcast look before he followed Gilbert and closed the door behind him.

"So, what's up, Gil?" Alfred just heard the door click shut when he felt his mouth being taken. The force from the impact results in him slamming his back against the door. He releases a moan, a complaint, for hurting his wound on his back, from the accident, but Gilbert continued to force his lips against his. The wall behind him opens up and he stumbles back, carrying Gilbert's weight against his body forcing him to collapse on the floor. Oh, not a wall. A door. And Arthur's feet are beside Alfred's right eye. As the Englishman stares down at the scene, stunned. All Alfred could think was, "Don't snap! Don't snap! Don't snap! Don't snap!"

And Arthur, of coarse, snapped. Arthur hung his head as if all muscle was lost in his neck than instantly roundhouse kicked Gilbert to the wall. Gilbert hit the middle of the wall, with a loud thud, and hard enough to make an obvious dent in the dark pine green walls. His pain is known with a strong groan and he kept his mouth opened to begin his growl of complaints but before he dared say anything to protect his pride, Arthur yelled first, "Fuck Off!"

Many of the rare words that come out of gentlemen originating from England, land of elegance and manners. Well, France is an exception. Alfred had his mouth so extended, anyone would think he was about to hurl his breakfast. Suddenly, Alfred was taken from behind, two arms hold around his neck and rested on his broad shoulders, a face comes up from the right side of his view and he can't help but gulp, hard. Arthur opened his mouth and Alfred shuts his eyes as tightly as he prepared his mind for his own death.

"Take your dirty hands off him! He's mine!" And the hold gets tighter but not the murderous type but the holding warmly, and comfortably kind. Alfred calculates the words in his mind and he turns a glowing cherry in Arthur's arms, his body tingling with embarrassment. He looks ahead of him to the injured prey, Gilbert, didn't seem emotionally hurt but, unusually satisfied. And as Arthur turns to look at Matthew, Alfred sees Gilbert give him a quick thumbs-up. Alfred raised his brows.

He started to remember all those relationships he had in college and how Gilbert was always there to save his helpless butt whenever he was chicken or unaware or just hurt. And when he got easily rejected, Gilbert would be there to happily drink with him. Gilbert always had his back. Always will, apparently. Alfred grinned at him, shaking his head lightly and mouthing the words, 'thanks'. Gilbert replied with a playful, blow of a kiss and another mouthed, 'good luck!' as he tried his best to limp out of the room. Alfred turned to Arthur who seemed to be cooling off his outrage and maybe even looking for the best wall repairs in town.

Alfred couldn't help laugh. Arthur glanced to look at him. "Wha-"

His lips were taken just for a quick second but that was long enough to get him heated up again. Alfred takes Arthur's smooth cheeks in his hands and put their foreheads together, two conductors of electricity run through there bodies. "Can I have the honor to take you on a date in town, Artie?" Arthur blushed harder, cons already streaming in his head to try to stop him. His nose felt pinched and carefully nodded, not listening to his mind's objections, as he answered, "G-Go ahead."

* * *

"Whoohoo!" Alfred exclaimed as he entered his bedroom, hoping to find Gilbert, who should get the 'best friend of all time' award. Gilbert was found already starting up another game, remote controller in hand. "Ja! How was it?" he asked, not really interested, but anything to pass his boredom was enough motive to have any care to ask. Alfred sat on his soft bed, giving the widest grin he can give to Gilbert and the German smirked. "That good, ja?" And Alfred hit his laughing face with a silky pillow, "Dirty minded freak!" But he ends up laughing again.

Gilbert chuckled kindly. "No, I'm happy for you, really." He started looking around in the shelves for something and Alfred raised his blonde brow. "I'm looking for your second remote, where did you put it?" Alfred thought, then threw his second pillow at his head with an annoyed face. "Jerk. You broke it." And Gilbert stood again up, like the punching bag he was, strong and willing to silently fight back. And he did, sticking his tongue out, "Oh ja! Sorry!" Alfred rolled his sky-blue eyes as Gilbert asked, "So, anything you should be telling me?"

Alfred wondered what that was supposed to mean and then he returned to his joyful state replying, "Yeah! I have a date with Artie tomorrow! Cool hey?" Gilbert paused his game, dropped his remote, careful not to break another and turned around, with eyes of shock, mostly disappointment. Alfred became confused. "W-What?" Gilbert pointed out the window and Alfred leads it to look outside. "What season is it?"

"Summer?"

"Ja." Gilbert raised his eyebrows expecting a light bulb from Alfred. And nothing. He sighed, "Okay then. What is it today?"

Alfred thought again. "June thirtieth?" Still looking at Gilbert dumbfounded. Gilbert was annoyed now, throwing back the pillow hard against Alfred's golden head. "Idiot! It's your own brother's birthday tomorrow!"

Alfred widened his eyes, mouth gaping and embarrassed at his huge amount of stupidity. "Shit!"

"Ja! You look like shit!"

* * *

**Author's Notes**:

_July First- Canada Day_

I'm laughing. Yes. I enjoyed writing the parts where Gilbert was included. He is definitely the kind of friend anyone should be looking for. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. And I want to thank one of my reviewers for your truthful review. I tried to respect your disgust to 'french kissing' and made sure it was just mouths touching here. Hope you liked it.

In the last chapter, Prayers For The Troubled, I misspelled 'name' with 'anime'. Forgive me for that. Besides that, my new story is out; The Main Character. Please read it and/or review. My thanks to all my readers.

Anyway, I bid you happy reading.


	12. Chapter 12: The Name On The Grave

Chapter Twelve: The Name On The Grave  


Arthur is already off of his bed by the time the alarm sounds at seven o'clock.

He takes a quick shower, brushes his teeth and changes into a white long-sleeve, that he just recently bought, and a pair of black Armani-branded pants. He styles his awfully messy hair the best he can and even slightly brushes his large brows. Arthur finds a black tie in a small compartment within his room and ties it on, taking more time to tighten it and place it in the perfect position. He rushes out with a dark green jacket in one arm as he sprays some elegant cologne on himself. As he zips through the hallway excitedly, he passes an open bedroom that had a German, messily sleeping on the carpet and a sleeping Matthew on the single bed. Arthur shrugged, continued but then quickly backed up, surprised and instantly annoyed. "Matthew!" He yelled into the slightly echoing bedroom and both men sit up frantically.

"I'LL GET THE EXTINGUISHER!" Matthew yelled immediately after sitting up like a jack-in-the-box.

"I'LL GET THE PHONE!" Gilbert screamed, almost in unison to Matthew's outcry.

After the two unconsciously start feeling around the room and finally hitting their heads on the light walls, they meet their weary eyes with Arthur's others. "Morning?" They asked at the same time, not really in question but for clarification. Arthur nodded in disbelief, mostly at Matthew. "Why are you not ready yet?"

Alfred raised a brow, his mind still wandering, and his eyes still fluttering shut. "For what?" he had to ask when he looked to Gilbert and he shrugged as a reply, just as sleepy. Arthur still stared at him, mouth wide and gigantic eyebrows furrowed. "Date!" He finally yelled, impatient and shaking his head as he rushed to climb down the stairs. Alfred was still wondering what language Arthur was chattering in when Gilbert jumped to his feet in realization.

"Ja! You didn't tell him?" He questioned harshly, almost in a hissing whisper. "'Bout what?" Alfred mumbled, almost falling back on his bed, his mind disoriented. "About Mattie's birthday!" Then Alfred finally opened his eyes to the world. "Oh, no, sorry. I still don't have the guts to tell him yet." He tried to wash away the subject by asking if he was hungry and Gilbert responded by face-palming himself.

After changing into something decent, that Alfred owned, Gilbert stomped down to the elegant living room to look into the open kitchen. He tried to look inside but it was filled with smoke and a very indecent aroma. "Hey, Art-" He was suddenly taken from behind, his mouth covered and his body was taken down, behind the dining table. The German looked behind his shoulder and found Alfred shushing him, almost looking absolutely frightened. "What the hell?" Gilbert whispered.

"Don't let him find you and brace for your life!" He muttered back as he retreated, disappearing under the tablecloth, like batman shit. Gilbert rolled his eyes, stood up again, and ignored the whispers of command under the cloth. He walked into the smoky kitchen to find an open oven and a British man standing in front of it, holding a tray... of scones. He's heard stories, he's heard rumors and complaints from Al. Gilbert never knew they would actually be real. As Arthur met eyes with him, looking back, he runs away, trying to open the front door like a horror movie. And as the story goes, the character dies the worst way possible. Alfred peeks through the cloth and shook his head as he watched the scene, "I warned you, man."

Gilbert coughed up the black, crumbling poison into the toilet as Alfred got ready in the next room, trying to calm him down of the experience. "Dude, you aren't dead, it's fine. It was just scones." He tried to say as he struggled to bear the sound of his best friend hurling into an echoing toilet. "It wasn't just scones! I swear your boyfriend was trying to kill me," Gilbert puked more before speaking again, "and I was on the brink of extinction!"

"Drama llama, dude."

"It's true, ja!" He says after finally wiping his mouth, getting the filth out of his grumbling stomach and shuffling to the next room to check on his life saver. "How does the prince charming look?" Gilbert enters the room, looking at a broad young man, with his back facing him. And Alfred turns around as Gilbert turns gay all over again. "Ja, you sexy beast!"

Alfred flexes one of his arms, raises a brow and gives his best James Bond smile, "I know right?"

* * *

"Matthew!" Arthur called out, almost as soon as he spotted the Canadian man step down the last flight. "So, How do I look?" Alfred asked, almost rhetorically. "You look absolu- fine, you look fine." Arthur spit out, holding his nose to keep it from bleeding. Matthew grinned, satisfied, and went ahead to open the door in a gentlemanly way. Arthur nodded as a quick thanks to leave the thick-aired room and Alfred's smile became much larger.

As they drive to The Colosseum, a beautiful and elegant restaurant with well-decorated commoner's food, Arthur can't keep his mind and eyes off of Matthew. His suit is elegant and classy yet very sensual with an ironed shirt, color of white cream, and the top button, opened. The pants look comfortable yet fitting, but in a very manly way. His cologne is Aqua Di Gio, a cheap, light scent that can give a grumpy math teacher enough hallucinations to give him an A+. His lip balm made his lips look sexy and mature. And his face...

Arthur looked closer as Matthew glanced at him with a questioning look. "Uh... Do I like my natural good looks that much?" He joked and Arthur unconsciously answered, "Damn yes," in almost a sigh. It made Alfred pull into the curb, in sudden adrenaline and stare back at him, "Are you high?" Arthur's lids were half closed and his bold arms pulled up to take Matthew's neck and he kissed him in needy outrage. Alfred, shocked, cooperates in a feeling of awkwardness then sudden attack, as he pulled away and pushed Arthur, almost more violently than he wanted. "Uh..." He started but ends up breathing in hard and returning to driving with a very distinct swallow.

Arthur kept quiet, shame and ineptitude overtaking him as he kept his head down. Alfred glanced at his passenger then sighed. "Hey... it's fine. It was just... an urge? Or something."

"I'm sorry," Arthur whispered and Alfred almost laughed. "Don't worry about it, Artie. I enjoyed it." He said, unashamed and Arthur looked at him with a blushing face. He cleared his throat, averted his eyes and answered, "good, you pervert."

They drove into the restaurant's lot and Arthur looked out in the distance as he closes the car's door. "Matthew... what is that?" Arthur wondered because he couldn't see it very clearly. Alfred breathed out and turned around to face Arthur. "Uh... My brother's Columbarium."

Arthur gaped his mouth. "Oh," is all he can say. They enter 'The Colosseum' and Alfred got them a leather seated corner table with a sneaky wink at the kind, single waitress. They sit down awkwardly, well, for Arthur, as Matthew kept unusually clearing his mouth and twiddling his fingers. "Are you that hungry?" Arthur had to ask. "Kind of, but it's not that," he quickly answered then looked at Arthur and licked his lips, making the Brit gulp. "Hey... do you still have that urge?"

"N-No! Why would I?"

Alfred read his mind easily and responded, "I have it too... just different reason." He leaned into the table, resting his elbow on it and rested his hand on his palm. "Can you hand me the menu?" Arthur's mouth twitched for a second and he leaned to his right to grab the leather booklet and handed it to him. He opened then flipped four pages into it and suddenly pointed at a few words. "I'll order the pancakes," Matthew quickly mumbled as Arthur nods in understanding. The same waitress came back to take their orders, Arthur's being a salad appetizer and a main dish of lamb chops. Matthew has an order of yam fries for an appetizer, grilled steak burger for an entree and that small order of pancakes. Talk about an appetite.

Matthew's fidgety posture started to worry Arthur and he gave him some space to loosen himself. So he wasn't the only one who was nervous about this. He stood up from his posh seat and gave Matthew a quick smile before leaving to go into the powder room. He opened the door, slightly creaking as he hoped that no one else was inside. Arthur just reassured he's by himself before he sighed loudly then walked to the marble counters to wash his almost sweating face. He started to think of Matthew's unusual aura and how it actually resembled the Canadian he knew, not the Matthew that stayed at his flat. "What's happening to him?" Arthur whispered to himself.

The door opened and forced Arthur to take a napkin, dry his face hastily and leave. He approached back to the table with a smile to find it empty. "What?..." Arthur started looking around curiously and almost afraid of the result. Did he get bored? Did he run off with that waitress with beautiful hair of snow? Did he leave me? No... he isn't that type of person. That's Alfred. This is Matthew... Why would I think Matthew would do that in the first place? "What?" He repeated involuntarily.

* * *

Arthur rushed out of the quiet but packed restaurant, huffing from trying to find a certain Canadian admirer. He looked around, his mind moving towards the near parking lot to find that the crimson car is still parked and waiting in the slight darkness. Arthur's head moved side to side in a quick scan of the premises and his eye catches on a blonde mop of hair, a few meters away.

"Matthew!" Arthur yelled but the specific figure he was calling for didn't move a centimeter toward him but rather entered the small Columbarium. Arthur's breathe is still trying to process the sudden rush of exercise when he forced his legs to run towards the sad but inviting building. He grabbed onto a column to slow himself down and glanced up to look into the entrance. "Matthew!" He yelled again as he tiredly entered the slightly lighted room. He found the same large sized body standing in front of a small shelf holding a small, beautiful container. And the blonde mop of hair finally spoke,

"I want you to meet my brother, Artie. This is my brother."

Arthur's eyebrows twitched at the sudden and confusing statement. "I did meet him. I do know him." He stated, not really wanting to stay in this place because he can almost feel the tears being pulled from his emerald eyes.

"Right." Matthew mumbled, emotionlessly but continued to keep his broad back to the British man.

"Right... I mean, I dated him, Matthew."

"No, you didn't," Matthew replied back but not in the slightest intention to be rude. He turned his face to the side so that Arthur can trace his beautifully long eyelashes, stained with water. "Please don't call me that."

Arthur's brow twitched again, not in annoyance but in bewilderment at what nonsense was coming out of Matthew's mouth. "What do you mean? And why can't I call you by your own name?" His accented voice was growing more and more commanding and his feet were inching closer to 'Matthew'. What was wrong with him? He made no sense. It was as if he was possessed by another soul. Without him knowing, he found himself right behind Matthew and Arthur reached out to his shoulder. He was shaking.

"Matthew, tell me what's wro-" Then he saw it... What was it? It confused him. It made no sense. Arthur's evergreen eyes were set on a blank sheet of paper that was taped on top of his deceased lover's name and it said the name of the very person in front of him, '_Matthew'_

"...What in the world." Arthur took a step back, bewildered and absolutely terrified. His voice hitched and his hands came up to his face to cover his shaky lips. His eyes were larger than saucers and his large brows were furrowed upwards. "What are you doing? W-What is this?"

The shimmering blonde mop of hair turned around completely, cheeks flushed and had a blanket of tears. His eyes were ruby red and very tired. "Please..." He whispered softly, "don't call me that."

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

_Armani - is a name of a brand that sells mainly designer clothing. Their pants range from the prices of $80 to $140 _

_'Jack-in-the-Box' - is a toy. It is a box (antiques are made of wood) that needs to be wound up to make the 'Jack', a puppet-like figure that usually looks like a clown, pop up and scare the player._

_James Bond - are a series of films about a British secret agent who works for M16, created by Ian Fleming. He is played by many actors and usually portrayed to be daring and very good-looking, though the author himself wanted Bond to be dull as hell. Alfred portrayed his smile like Bond because he knows that Arthur knows very well of this hot, British man._

_'The Colosseum' - isn't a real restaurant. It might be. I don't know. It is actually an amphitheater in Rome, Italy that history tells, showed many 'to-the-death' entertainment. It is now in ruins but is very popular for tourism. I thought that if, back in the day, so many people had to die there, why not put a graveyard right beside it?_

_Aqua Di Gio - a very popular cologne that is used by many men. It is cheap but is said to be useful when meeting or seeing a romantic other._

I do not know what it was but there was an excessive amount of twitching activity here. I didn't enjoy this chapter as much as I thought I would. It was actually i bit boring but I am very pleased with my ending. I apologise for my last chapter. It didn't make sense in the first half, whatsoever. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I want to thank all of my readers and reviewers for your support by reading my story. It's an honour.

Does anyone else notice any patterns? Anyway, I bid you happy reading.


	13. Chapter 13: How To Save Ourselves

Chapter Thirteen: How To Save Ourselves

.

"You're not making any sense."

"Doesn't mean I want you to get it."

"But I do. Tell me, Matthew. I'm confused."

"Told you not to call me that."

"Well, tell me why. I come out here for a spectacular night and you come to your brother's grave? What's happening? What's wrong? Please! Tell me!"

Alfred averted his eyes, sparkling and watery. "I'm not Matthew."

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows, not understanding, and hoping to get out of there soon. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Alfred stared right into Arthur's eyes. "I'm not Matthew, Arthur. I'm Alfred."

Arthur stared back, shocked and in disbelief. He shook his head like he wanted to erase and start over. "Excuse me?"

"I'm Alfred" He repeated. Arthur scoffed and shook his head. "Matthew, what is this nonsense?"

"I am Alfred Jones. I'm 24 years old. I worked at a restaurant called Forbes Island. My favorite food are burgers from MacDonald's. I play Call of Duty only on Wednesdays and Mondays because other days, I call friends from college and high school to hang out. I have had six serious relationships in high school and university… with women." Alfred awkwardly looked away and cleared his throat.

He continued, blinking as the water in his oceanic eyes, disappeared, "I went to Columbia University and graduated with a master's degree on Biology to become a Biomedical Scientist. I never became one because I ran away from New York, with Matt. We lived in an apartment building on 3820 Scott Street until I crashed my precious Chevy Camaro when I drank too many cocktails before hours, in Forbes."

Arthur glanced at Alfred still in disbelief and astonishment, that he didn't want to show. Alfred laughed nervously and sadly. "It sounds like hell but… I met a man named Arthur Kirkland, at work, and he made my experience better than any amusement ride in Disney…"

The British man slid his quivering fingers over his mouth as if he was going to scream. He tightly shut his eyes, the Evergreen Forests, vanishing. Alfred stared upward as if angels were going to take him away. "And I miss him like thirsting for water in a desert." Arthur shut his eyes tighter and tears rolled down slowly then rapidly as he heard words from his story that he wrote. With Alfred and Matthew. Arthur felt arms wrapping around him like a comforting blanket.

"Please," Alfred whispered, "I'm Alfred."

"Alright," Arthur muttered back to him, through his slender fingers and his flowing tears, "Okay... Okay." Alfred almost smiled until the split moment ended with Arthur pushing him away as if he was a horrid disease. Arthur's eyes were not happy nor sad.

They were flaming with anger. "You bastard," He whispered through his clenched teeth, "Don't fuck with me. And don't you dare fuck with Alfred."

Then he ran. Alfred couldn't even blink once before he can see where he went. He just stood there, his emotions circulating like chemicals within the unknown galaxies. Unexplained and dangerous. He could cry, laugh, smile, and murder someone all at once. Arthur's word's were stabbing his brain endlessly. He was breathing heavily and his heart was beating rapidly. He wanted to run after him but he just stood there, his leg muscles on the verge of moving.

_"Hit the ball or go home," _His mind echoed. Where did that come from?...

_Baseball. 1998. May nineteenth. Spring ball. Father was yelling at the top of his lungs at the opposing team. "You call that a safe? You're baseball cap is bigger than your brain!" Two days later, he died on May twenty-first 1998. Lived a great life._

_"Your future will be bigger than life."_

_High school. Football. Overtime. We won. Locker room. Waiting for my ride... It was an accident. A drunkard. Mother died. Age 43. August fourth 2008. Her famous ham was still cooking in the oven. Lived a great life._

_"You won't regret it! Promise!"_

Alfred fell to his knees, dust spreading around like small, beige clouds. "Hey, Mattie. Do you regret now?" He lay his back against the concrete wall and breathed in, "I'm sorry." Then closed his tired eyes. And never opened them.

* * *

"Pills."

"Excuse me?"

"Sleeping pills."

"I-I... I do not understand."

"He was in the restaurant correct? Investigation found sleeping pills on the end counter covered over by many paper napkins. It wasn't visible at first but they found it. It was nothing medical, Mr. Kirkland, just... unfortunate circumstances."

"..."

"I am sorry for your loss."

"No, no... He was never mine."

"...I see. Well, your story is plausible and will be taken to court. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Kirkland."

"..."

"Well I must be off. Take the time you need."

...

_So, he died. That's what you deserve, you bastard._

"Oh, before I leave, the doctors found a mistake."

"...Excuse me?"

"Actually it was quite funny... um, or not. The point is, Mr. Kirkland, the body we found was basically the same DNA as we found with his brother. Though it wasn't, a small particle was different and we found out that this sleeping death was in fact not Mr. Williams."

"..."

"It was Mr. Jones'. Alfred Foster Jones. But you must've already known that. My apologies for that misunderstanding as well."

"..."

"Mr. Kirkland?"

"...I see."

Then he ran.

Which wasn't a good idea. It never was and never will be.

* * *

END

* * *

Shortest chapter in all fanfic history (maybe not) but that was what I had in my plot so, I couldn't argue with handwritten text. Sorry. (- -') But somehow, I find myself unsatisfied so, maybe I'll write a reenactment or a reverse ending... an actually "happy" one. Just maybe.

Thank you for reading and putting up with the outrageously long time span of waiting.

Until the next fic. :)


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